


Lovebirds

by fencecollapsed



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Fights, Hive Mind, Post-Apotheosis (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Post-Canon, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-02-20 09:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22182094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencecollapsed/pseuds/fencecollapsed
Summary: The Hive is quarantined in Hatchetfield, and there's an easy way to take the entire infection down at once, but there's also one problem: Paul and Emma are the targets, and they have no interest in letting themselves be cured.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 37
Kudos: 209





	1. Questioning

**Author's Note:**

> So there isn't nearly enough villain!paulkins content out there and I've done a share of art (and plan to continue) but I figured I might as well throw out some fic too! This'll be pretty short again, writing long multi-chapter fics stresses me out but I've got content in my head and I wanna share it dammit!!
> 
> (There will be mild Black Friday spoilers in this, like right away - not plot related - can't tag cuz my laptop's busted and mobile won't let me do my own tags rip)
> 
> (Also quick promo for the fic Power Couple by Zoya113 which also uses this concept, if you aren't reading that you should be)

"I need you to tell me everything you can remember about the man and woman in this photograph."

\--

Houston, Thomas: "Well, uh, the woman's my sister-in-law. Emma Perkins? I only met her once or twice, I don't know her that well. Never met the guy, but..."

"What, Mr. Houston?"

Houston, Thomas: "I don't know. He feels important."

\--

Barnes, Rebecca: "Oh, that's Paul Matthews, in the suit. We live on the same street. He's nice enough, not very social, though. I'm sure I've seen the girl around, but I don't know her name. There's… something missing, I feel like I know them better than I do."

\--

Monroe, Gerald: "Don't ask how I know, but those two are people of power. My wife probably knows them, I bet I've seen them with her. Where is she, by the way?"

"Your wife is still on the island, Mr. Monroe."

Monroe, Gerald: "That would explain why she hasn't called me in a while."

\--

Foster, Alexandra: "I don't know, man, the chick works at a shitty coffee shop that's closer to the mall than Starbucks, that's all I've got. You said we were clean, can we jet already?"

Foster, Hannah: "Lovebirds."

"What's that, sweetie?"

Foster, Alexandra: "You don't have to talk to him, Hannah."

Foster, Hannah: "Powerful."

"What do you mean?"

Foster, Hannah: "The Hive chose two. Lovebirds."

"What is she saying? Are these riddles?"

Foster, Alexandra: "I don't know."

"Listen, Hannah, if you remember anything about the Hive you have to tell me directly. This is extremely important."

Foster, Hannah: "Lovebirds are  _ powerful.  _ Heads of the Hive. Stronger together."

"You're saying the man and woman in this photograph are the leaders of the Hive?"

Foster, Hannah: "King and queen. Take out the heads and the whole thing goes down."

"Thank you, Hannah, that's very helpful. You're free to return to your rehabilitation quarters."


	2. First Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and Emma defend their island

The Hive's numbers had lessened, though not by much. Quiet acknowledgement rippled through the collective, all feeling where the empty spaces were. A few felt worry at a possible threat to their peace.

"They'll take more of us,"

"They'll break up the family,"

"We're in danger,"

_ "Shhh," _

Worry had no place in the Hive, this wouldn't do at all. A jolt of comfortable bliss was sent to subdue the unwelcome feeling. Restless chatter fell quiet.

_ "Nothing's gonna harm you, not while we're around," _

The sweetly sung assurances eased the townspeople back into contentment. At the center of Hatchetfield, Paul and Emma let out a sigh of relief, pleased they'd been able to comfort their hive so easily. After a moment Paul slipped out of the collective headspace and pulled Emma with him. He held her hands a little tighter than normal. She could feel his unease, however mild.

"What's the matter, babe?" She asked, leaning back in his arms.

"They're right, the threat's going to come back." Paul muttered. "They're going to take more of us, and we'll have to be ready."

"We will be."

"They left a kid without his father."

"We'll look after Tim. We'll take care of everything, and we'll bring Tom and the others home."

Emma pulled Paul further into her mind to share her serenity. He relaxed against her, burying his face in her neck to kiss her softly. Emma hummed and Paul harmonized. She turned in his arms to face him.

"Don't worry anymore," she purred. "Everything's just fine."

Paul smiled and brushed a loose strand of hair behind Emma's ear. Her hand closed around his tie and tugged him down towards her.

"Okay," he agreed, and bent down to meet her.

\--

As expected, the threat returned two days later. A team of PEIP soldiers stormed Hatchetfield, their sights set on the king and queen. And as promised, the Hive was ready.

The first to see the chopper touch down on the docks sent out a warning.

_ "They're a-comin," _

Emma knelt down so she was level with Tim and took his shoulders.

"Okay, Tim, Paul and I have something to take care of, so you're going to go with Bill for a bit."

Tim glanced down. "You'll come back, right?"

"Of course we will, bud." Paul promised.

"This is going to help us get your dad back. Then everything will be back to normal. Promise."

Emma gave Tim a pat on the head and sent him off with Bill. Then she let Paul pull her to her feet and they headed on their way.

The townspeople led PEIP straight to Paul and Emma, and the fight began. If you could call it that, which in all honesty, you couldn't.  _ Bloodbath  _ was probably a better word. The task force outnumbered Paul and Emma fairly, so it served as a shock when they found themselves outmatched.

One soldier stepped forward and found himself in Paul's grip. Before he could even react a shock of pain shot through his body as Paul snapped his neck, and it hit the remaining soldiers quickly how serious this mission was. Not that it mattered, since Paul and Emma were too fast for them anyway. The lovebirds relished a violent apotheosis, feeling the empty spaces fill back up one by one with new allies. 

General McNamara was going to be pleased.

The last standing soldier held his gun in shaking hands, backing clumsily over the twitching, infected bodies of his teammates as they regained consciousness. Paul and Emma advanced, splattered and dripping with blood from the carnage, both frothing at the mouth. Emma grabbed the soldier by the neck and yanked him down to her level.

"P-please," he begged, tilting his head away from her.

"You don't deserve our mercy," Emma snarled. "So we'll let you take back a message for us."

"W-what?"

Emma spun the soldier out, bending his arm back.

"Don't.  _ Fuck.  _ With. Our Hive."

She slammed the base of her hand into the soldier's elbow, snapping the bone. He cried out in pain and Emma released him to fall to the ground. Paul stood above him, lifting his chin to let his bright, shining blue eyes bore through the soldier's visor.

"Now run along. We'll see you again soon."

The soldier took his chance and scrambled off, leaving Paul and Emma to relish their victory.

\--

"They're quarantined, they've stayed in Hatchetfield all this time, what's the harm in leaving them be?" The one survivor of the task force was in hysterics in front of his Colonel. "As long as we can ensure they don't get out-"

"I would advise you not to question my orders, soldier." Colonel Schaeffer interrupted. "The mission as it stands is to take out Matthews and Perkins alive, so they can be brought back to headquarters and given the cure."

"I understand that, Ma'am, but-"

"But what, Stevens? I am trying to do my job, and I was instructed to deal with the Hatchetfield situation quickly and  _ humanely. _ Please explain to me exactly what your issue is with my orders."

"With all due respect, Colonel, you didn't  _ see  _ them. They ripped the team apart like it was nothing and infected  _ all  _ of them, I'm lucky I got away with just a broken arm."

"Not sure I'd call that luck." Schaeffer remarked. "If they have our men, they have our information. My guess is they're going to use it to storm our headquarters and take back the citizens we've retrieved, putting them and our entire facility in danger. That makes our mission  _ mandatory. _ "

"They're going to be in danger no matter what, those two are fucking  _ feral,  _ Ma'am-"

"Stevens." Schaeffer held up her hand and Stevens shut his mouth. "I understand your concern, so I'm going to permit your leave from this mission. I want you to inform the next task force of what to expect so they can plan a more effective stealth mission, and then you may go home. You will be notified when the mission is over."

Stevens bit back another protest, simply nodding. 

"Yes, Ma'am."

\--

While PEIP formulated their new strategy, General McNamara had been tasked with putting together his own mission back in Hatchetfield. Paul and Emma were determined to get back those who'd been taken - mostly Tom - which meant the entire Hive was determined to help.

McNamara was confident in his plan and urged the lovebirds to be patient. With their trust in him that was easy, and for the time being the Hive could relax.

Everything would be back to normal soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3  
> Next chapters will be longer


	3. Patience & Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patience is easy when you've got a Hive to run. // Progress can be slow-going but with a competent sergeant shit will get done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote the opening scene multiple times just to make it more schmaltzy be prepared

Being of their status, Paul and Emma had a lot on their plate, and thus didn't get many moments of alone time. But as a man of routine, Paul quickly found a way to ensure he'd have his queen all to himself for a satisfactory amount of time every day, by instilling a morning coffee break into their schedule. Every morning he and Emma had Beanies cleared out and would soak up each other's company for the one hour and a half a day that no one dared disturb them.

The entire town obeying their every order sure had its perks.

\--

"Sergeant Carson says the army isn't trying to chip away at the town," Emma said. "They just want to take you and me. That's their plan - they want to 'cure' us."

"Jesus, why is everyone always after  _ us? _ " Paul traced a finger along the blue-stained rim of his mug.

"That's a great fuckin' question."

"Someone wants us one way, now someone else wants us another. It's just not sustainable, Emma."

"Don't bother yourself with what they want," Emma scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "They're just the ensemble. It's about the main stage, babe, it's about you and me. What do  _ you  _ want?"

"You already know, dove."

"I do, but tell me again anyway." Emma slid her hand up Paul's arm, leaning closer across the table. Her brows quirked up a bit and she murmured in a breathy singsong; "I like hearing you say it."

Paul felt his body lean closer into Emma's touch for him - not that he was complaining. Her eyes sparkled like bright blue stars in a midnight sky, entrancing him. He felt warmth rise in his face, a soft blue blush tinting his nose. Emma edged forward, her lips pursed. Teasing him. He was still so weak for her and she loved it.

Swept up in desire Paul rose on his feet and cupped Emma's face in both hands, pulling her up for a kiss. Emma planted her hands on the table and kissed back just as desperately for a few moments before pulling back and sitting again. Paul had left a blue stain dripping from her mouth that she didn't bother to wipe away, instead just resting her chin in her palm.

"I love you too, stardust," she purred. "Now go on, say it."

Paul reached out his hand to lovingly caress Emma's cheek as he spoke.

"All I want is to go on living with the love of my life, my beautiful, radiant, stunning queen at my side," he doted, and she kissed his hand, "-and expand our Hive until the apotheosis goes global and we rule the world together."

Emma hummed from low in her throat. "I like the sound of that."

"Do you, Em?" Paul slipped into a little song.  _ "My sweet, my songbird, my beautiful dove?" _

_ "My king, my light, my star in the night, we'll soon have everything we ever dreamed of." _

Emma drew closer, bringing her hand to Paul's chin. He moved in too, but paused and pulled back, like he thought better of it. He laid his hands flat on the table, tapping out an uncertain beat. His shoulders hunched, drawing attention to how crooked they sat.

"Nothing's going to get in our way." He said it like he was trying to convince himself. "What the hell do they want to cure us for anyway? There's nothing wrong with us, we're happy. Everyone is - everyone else  _ will be,  _ who's PEIP to try and meddle with that?"

Emma took Paul's restlessly tapping hands in her own. She ran her thumb over his knuckles the way she knew he liked. His eyes fell shut and he hummed, and Emma kissed the back of his hand softly.

"It's just human arrogance, Paul. They don't know what they're fucking with. I'll give 'em this, neither did we, but it's different now."

Paul nodded. "It's  _ us  _ now."

"Exactly."

Paul leaned forward, taking his hands back to rest his chin on one. He tapped Emma's nose softly just to watch it crease with her grin.

"And it'll be us for the rest of all time, my queen."

Emma hummed, cupping Paul's chin in her hand to draw him closer. "There's no one I'd rather spend it with."

She drew her thumb over Paul's cheek before pulling him in to steal a kiss. They held it as long as they pleased - always grateful for the perk of no longer needing to breathe - but the edge of the table started to dig into Emma's stomach. She pulled back and stood, and with no prompting Paul swept her into his embrace. He peppered her face in soft, blue kisses, moving down her neck to enjoy the sweet soprano bells of her laughter.

Music swelled in their heads, syncing their hearts to the rhythm. Paul took Emma by the waist and found her hand to hold. He kissed her again before pulling her into a swing step, out the door and into town.

\--

A dance through the square was good for Hive morale. Paul and Emma felt spirits rise through the song, and paired with the overwhelming bliss that always came with an expression of their love, the energy reverb back through the town was so powerful it could have knocked the entire Hive off their feet.

They stopped on a street corner at the number's conclusion and Paul lowered Emma in a dip. The foot of her weak leg dragged on the sidewalk and her other leg raised to curl over Paul's hip as he kissed her. The power of the song lingered for a few beats and then the strength in Paul's back started to waver, just a little. He lifted Emma back to her feet and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Before either could do anything a presence prodded patiently at their shared headspace - like a knock at the door.

"Hey, Bill," Paul said before even turning around.

"Hey guys," Bill waved, his smile bright.

Tim stood at his hip. Emma held out her hand, pulling the boy into a spin when he took it. He laughed and clung to the loose hanging hem of Emma's blouse when he regained his balance.

"Morning, bud! We missed you yesterday." Emma said. "How was it with Bill? Was Alice nice to you?"

"Of course she was!" Bill and Paul both spoke defensively.

"She was, it was nice." Tim nodded. "I missed you too, Aunt Emma. Why can't I know what you were doing? It's about finding my dad, isn't it?"

The adults shared a glance. Children in Hatchetfield understood significantly more than they had pre-apotheosis, but that was no reason they couldn't still be  _ children.  _ The hivemind of the town operated on one all-encompassing headspace as well as a series of inner channels, the populations of which could be shifted at will. Recently some new, limited channels were established - ones that contained certain sensitive information, ideas, or memories - that the children were to be excluded from.

Emma didn't think Tim needed to know that his aunt was hunting people for sport.

"It's just grown-up stuff, bud." Emma said, patting Tim's shoulder. "You don't need to worry about it."

She felt his doubt and sent a wave of calm to counter it. Tim was a little more persistent than most, given that  _ his  _ father was missing, so Emma worked to think of a distraction, brightening quickly when Paul slipped one into her head.

"Hey, how about we go visit the Professor?" She proposed. "He'll be opening the gates about now."

Tim perked up, satisfied enough with the idea to drop it, and with a wave to Bill the trio headed on their way.

"Very smooth," Paul ribbed, and Emma swatted his chest playfully.

"Oh, shut up!"

She'd grant Paul this, a visit to Hidgens was the perfect distraction. Tim liked him, Emma would be at ease, and Paul - who tended to be fairly quiet at engagements like this anyway - would have an excuse to check in with the General. The more assurance he could get, the better.

\--

Across the waters at PEIP headquarters, the newly assigned task force sergeant - Aubrey Faren - had elected for another round of witness questioning after hearing from Stevens. She wanted to carry out this stealth mission successfully, and figured the subjects in quarantine would be at least some help.

Nobody was but Becky Barnes.

"I think Paul is a bit hard of hearing," she told Faren. "I'm not sure if it's in both ears or just one, but he has a hard time understanding you if you aren't facing him, and if you come up from behind he won't know you're there. I've startled him enough times at the mailboxes on our street to figure that out."

"Are you sure the infection hasn't healed that?" Faren asked.

"I don't think it's something that  _ could  _ be healed that way."

"And when he's startled, is Paul's natural instinct fight or flight?"

"He's a very nervous man, definitely flight."

"Alright. Thank you Ms. Barnes, your assistance is greatly appreciated."

Faren headed out of the quarantine facility, crossing paths with Colonel Schaeffer along the way.

"We've got likely hearing loss on Matthews, beyond that not much else."

"Any info is important. Good job, Sergeant."

"Thank you, Colonel."

"When do you think your task force will be ready to go?"

"I wanted to ask you about that actually, I'd like to send out a recon team first, this evening, if you'll allow it."

Schaeffer stopped walking and shot the Sergeant a quick side-eye.

"I'll need a good reason to clear a recon mission so last-minute, Faren."

"I just think it'll be a good idea to get a little more observation info, Ma'am. The subjects in quarantine have hardly any memory of the hivemind and barely know Matthews or Perkins at all, and Stevens was too shaken to tell my agents anything that would be any help." 

"Have you thought this through? We cannot afford to lose many more field agents right now."

Faren toyed with the zipper of her vest a little anxiously. This was a tall request, she knew, but it was one she thought was important.

"I-I know, Colonel. That's exactly why I think it's a good idea - it's a risk, but it's less of a risk than going in with hardly anything and ending up with a repeat of Carson's team. The more info we have on these two, the better chance we have of catching them with minimal casualties."

"Hm," Schaeffer ran her thumbnail over her bottom lip thoughtfully. "You make a good point. Have your team ready to go by 1700 hours."

Faren bristled, surprised she'd convinced Schaeffer at all. "Th-thank you, Colonel!" She gave a shaky salute. "I won't let you down!"

Schaeffer returned the salute with a nod. "I should hope not."

\--

1700 hours - five PM - came and Faren accompanied her recon team in a chopper to Hatchetfield. Needless to say it's difficult to be inconspicuous landing in a small island town with a military chopper, but with no sign of blue-eyed witnesses the pilot deemed them safe to touch down.

The small team fanned out in pairs across the island, keeping close to walls, within shadows and brushes to avoid being spotted while they observed. By all accounts this mission was far more successful than the last.

At least, until Emma spun around out of the blue and caught Faren's partner by the throat.

"Decker!" Faren shrieked, sprinting to catch up to the scene. She reached back for her gun in warning. "Let him go, Perkins."

Emma grinned at her desperation. Decker struggled, trying to pry her grip off his neck. Emma's hold was tight around his windpipe - tight enough that he couldn't speak but not quite so tight to actually strangle him. She only gave him a hard jostle to shut him up.

"I don't like being stalked." She growled in his ear.

"Let him go now," Faren repeated, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Yeah?" Emma tightened her grip on Decker and he let out a choked gasp. "Because I'd love to hurt you!" She grabbed Decker's face in her hand and twisted him to look at her. "My boyfriend's not going to be happy with you, Decker. Your mother should have taught you it's fucking creepy to follow women at night."

"I-I wasn't-" Decker choked.

"Decker, don't engage, she's fucking with you."

"Decker, do you want me to let you go?"

"Cut the shit, Perkins. Soldier, eyes on me."

"Answer my question, Decker."

Faren tried to catch Decker's eye and signal him to keep his mouth shut, but he was already nodding.

"Please,"

With a sweet smile, Emma released him and stepped back. Decker fell to his knees, gasping for air. Before Faren could advance, though, Emma snapped her fingers.

A pair of bright blue eyes shone from the shadows behind her. She wasn't alone.

"Shit." Faren's voice broke. "Decker, book it!"

He could only barely manage to scramble to his feet before Paul had him by the back of the vest. Faren winced away as the strangled shout of her partner cut into sickening silence. Her breath caught in her chest, aching under her pounding heart. A growl snapped her attention back to Emma, knees bent in a lunge to give chase. Faren broke into a sprint.

"This is Sergeant Faren, we have a man down, recon team  _ retreat now!"  _ She yelled into her comm.

She listened for confirmation from her agents while frantically checking back on Emma every few seconds. The knowledge that the infected powerhouse was right on her heels was balanced only slightly by the fortunate confirmations of the entire rest of her team. 

She'd nearly reached the chopper when Emma tackled her. The small but remarkably strong woman pinned Faren's head down on the pavement to pry her jaw open and lowered herself, blue dripping down her chin. Faren braced herself against the ground and delivered a hard kick to Emma's stomach, barely managing to push her off. She swept her boot up into Emma's thigh and she collapsed, letting out a shocked cry of pain before quickly recovering. She glanced at her leg, her months-old injury still wrapped in dirty gauze. Faren followed suit, cogs turning in her head. 

Emma's gaze snapped back to Faren and she made to advance again, only for one Xander Lee to rush in at the last minute and drag the sergeant to the chopper.

"Take off, now!" Faren barked.

The pilot obeyed, leaving Emma standing on the ground below, glaring up. Paul joined her after a moment, pulling her into his arms. His own glowing eyes pierced through the evening sky, sending a feeling of dread over Faren.

"Good hustle back there, Lee. Thank you." Faren said, shaking it off.

"Of course, Aubrey. What happened?"

"They got Decker, but it wasn't for nothing." Faren stared down at the shrinking island. "Perkins has a weak leg."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	4. Ready To Move Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once in his life Paul is chillin, but maybe he shouldn't be.

"A weak leg…" Colonel Schaeffer looked down at her hands and then back up, clearing her throat. "That doesn't make sense, the infection heals all injury."

Faren nodded. She knew that, she'd seen Carson on the island - who Stevens had described as having his chest ripped through and his insides emptied - fully in tact like nothing had happened. But she also knew what she'd seen with Emma.

"This one hasn't, at least not fully. From what I saw she can move on it fine when she attacks, probably when she dances, too. But she doesn't stand very steady, and when she walked off with Matthews she was leaning her weight on him. It's like the infection only gives her leg strength sometimes."

Schaeffer scrubbed a hand down her face with a sigh. "Well, I guess better late figuring that out than never. I'd assumed Perkins' leg injury would be useless information, it seems that was a massive oversight on my part."

"You knew?"

"I didn't know it wasn't going to heal. It was from before she was infected."

Faren perked up. This could be useful.

"If she hasn't healed, maybe Matthews hasn't either… Colonel, do you know if he retained any injuries before his infection?"

"Well," Schaeffer clasped her hands together with a grimace. "I suppose I never considered the explosion."

Faren blinked. "Pardon?"

"There was an explosion at the Starlight Theatre in Hatchetfield the first evening of the infection, that was where my team recovered him before the mission went haywire. Perkins had informed us he'd gone to destroy the meteor that was the source of the pathogen."

"Oh, he would've been closest to the blast then. It probably released all its spores on detonation and they overpowered him, that's why he's all alpha-mode now."

"That's the theory, yes."

"He did look a little crooked… his injuries probably haven't fully healed, either."

"That gives us an advantage - we know where the weak points are. Good thinking, Faren."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Faren chewed on her lip. "Should we wonder  _ why  _ they haven't healed?"

Schaeffer waved her hand. "Leave that to the scientists when they're cured. Let's go, I want this task force ready to roll out ASAP."

\--

"Jesus, are you two ever going to get a room?"

Emma didn't even pull back from devouring Paul's face to fling a middle finger Ted's way. Paul did, though, always jumping at the opportunity to utilize the boost in confidence the Hive had given him.

"Fuck off, Ted."

"Yeah, go invade Charlotte's headspace." Emma added before yanking Paul back to her.

"Shouldn't you be doing Hive shit? Or at least your jobs? You've been in here for half an hour."

"I'm on break, that's what the break room's for." Paul said, not taking his eyes off Emma.

Ted raised a brow. "Is Emma on break too?"

"I don't know Ted, are  _ you  _ on break?" Emma snapped.

"He's not." Paul said.

"Then shove it, jackass."

Ted held his hands up defensively and leaned against the armrest of the chair Paul and Emma were sharing. The CCRP break room wasn't very big, but it wasn't like boundaries were much of a thing anymore anyway.

"Just checking!" Ted said. "You said you'd bring the others back and all week you've done nothing but suck face and bring in randos. If people start getting antsy that's on you assholes."

"Jeez, it's almost like we've been attacked three times! What a fucking concept!" Emma flung her arms into the air.

"Relax, Emma." Paul said softly, rubbing circles into her back. "Don't you start worrying now, that's my job."

Emma grumbled but dropped her head down from her height on Paul's lap to rest against his temple. The soldiers they'd caught last night had put her on edge. She was fuming. Paul eased out the tension in her head and tried to soothe her, continuing to rub her back while he addressed Ted.

Multitasking - another new skill.

"Let me ask you something, Ted. Is anyone really starting to get antsy, or is it just you?"

"Well-"

"Because I'm not feeling any widespread unease. And who knows, I'm not that observant, I could be missing something, but I don't think I am."

"It doesn't matter! All you two do is-!"

"Ted!  _ You're  _ not even antsy! You're just trying to start shit like you always do, and there's no place for that now, so you can cool it. The General's team is moving out tonight, I've taken care of everything I need to, and how I choose to spend my downtime…" Paul gave Emma a quick peck, "...is my business."

Ted stammered, trying to muster more of a protest, but came up empty. Paul was right. Paul was always right. Ted was supposed to listen to Paul. But a tiny piece of him insisted that this wasn't how things were meant to be. Paul had no authority over him, Paul was not supposed to be able to reign him in so easily.

Most of him was inclined to  _ listen to Paul,  _ but that tiny piece resisted, leaving him stuck and stammering in the break room.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Mouth shut. Out. Now."

And with that push Ted walked out the door with no further argument, leaving Paul and Emma alone.

Paul's attention was entirely Emma's now. He pulled her closer and hummed a melody, edging out the last of her anger until she was harmonizing in that pretty soprano. She kissed his forehead as a thank you and he pulled her down to steal one from her lips.

"Feel better, dove?"

Emma nodded. "Much."

"Good. Don't mind Ted, or those soldiers, or anything at all. Soon we'll get PEIP out of our way and we'll never have to worry again."

"I know."

"And when we do," Paul said, his voice suddenly low, a glint of intensity in his eyes, "I'm going to find that sergeant and I'm going to rip her spine out of her body, and crush her skull with my bare hands."

Emma's cheeks tinted blue, only rising with his doting kisses. She tipped her head back to give him more space, giggling.

"Oh, Paul, for me?"

"Em, baby, I'd pull her beating heart right from her chest for you, if that's what you want." Slime was brewing in his throat at his passion, staining Emma's neck and jaw. His voice lowered to a growl. "No one touches my queen and gets away with it."

Paul's fierce protectiveness lit a fire inside Emma. His kisses only stoked it. She took his face in both hands, her lips curling in a grin. She hummed and he harmonized, lowering herself to brush their noses together.

"What else would you do for me?"

_ "I'd do anything for you, dear, anything, for you mean everything to me," _

_ "Anything?" _

_ "Anything." _

"Sap."

Emma smiled fondly, bringing her hand up to play with the hair on the back of Paul's neck. She kissed his nose, barely, and went on to dot his face with feather-light affections until his eyes fluttered and she could feel him internally begging her to stop teasing. She granted his wish and captured his lips, feeling the vibration of his hum against her, and the warmth of his adoration spread through her.

\--

Eventually - reluctantly - Paul and Emma returned to work. Normalcy kept Hatchetfield running smooth, and for the time being that was the goal. The Hive couldn't start expanding yet, not with PEIP still on their collective ass, so for now they'd perfect their little town. When the people in Clivesdale saw how happy and functional Hatchetfield was, it would be a snap convincing them to join the party, and then they'd be unstoppable.

Paul was quieter when Emma wasn't with him. Something of his old self. Emma was the same, falling back on snark and sarcasm, though now with the intention to amuse rather than insult. It was a little less satisfying that way, but it did the job.

Come the afternoon, Emma left work to get Tim from school while McNamara yanked Paul into his headspace. He went glassy-eyed at his desk, his head falling forward when his crooked neck went slack. Ever present in the back of his head, Emma was able to listen in without being disturbed.

"General? What's the problem?" Paul asked.

"Just a brief mission update. The Colonel's getting wise, it won't be safe for you to tag along tonight."

"You're kicking us off?"

"Bullshit," Emma grumbled in the back of his head.

"I can't bring you two waltzing into enemy territory. PEIP as it stands wants to take you and they've been searching for weak points, it's too big of a risk. There's no telling what would happen to the Hive if they got their hands on you."

Emma's grip on her nephew's hand tightened and her frustration radiated outwards, setting the Hive off-kilter for a moment before expressing itself through Paul.

"We can take care of ourselves, McNamara."

"I know that," McNamara lowered his tone respectfully, like a verbal bow. "But it's my duty to keep this town and  _ you _ safe. The rulers should utilize their personal militia, no?"

"That's… fair."

"Keep an eye on the Hive, take care of the boy. We'll deal with the rest."

Emma softened at that. Resistance to the idea diminished, allowing Paul to accept.

"Yes, sir."

\--

Colonel Schaeffer was making her evening rounds about the facility. Ship-shape so far, as per usual. She was feeling about as at ease as possible - it had been a struggle without the General, but she had confidence. It was almost over.

"How's the perimeter?" She asked, poking her head into security.

"Secure. I just opened the gates for a returning task force."

"Returning? I didn't send out a task force today." 

Schaeffer moved to stand behind the guard, sweeping over the wall of screens until she came to the entrance, soldiers filing inside. They were in the right uniform, matching visors and berets, PEIP agents for sure. Barely camouflaged in the crowd was a familiar man of familiar rank, his hair pulled back in a familiar ponytail. Schaffer's throat went dry, a sinking feeling filling her stomach.

"Shut the gates." She ordered.

"What?"

"Shut the gates  _ now,  _ before any more of them get in, and sound the alarms. We've been infiltrated." She slammed her fist down on the control panel.  _ "Shit." _

With no time to tell off the guard's incompetence, she rushed out to the hallway, shaking hands fumbling with her comm as the alarm siren began to wail.

"Sergeant Faren, do you copy?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"Get to the helipads, now, come armed. We're going to Hatchetfield."

"Wh- Colonel, this is- what about the team?"

"No time, the base is under attack, we have to move out. We have to take down the king and queen  _ tonight." _

_ "What?!" _ Faren's shriek was shrill over the comm. "Just the two of us?! Schaeffer, they'll rip us apart!"

"With that attitude, no doubt." Schaeffer scoffed. "Buck up, Faren. This is happening whether you're ready or not. Are you ready?"

"...Yes, Ma'am."

"I'll see you on the chopper then. Let's go take down a hive mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> classes start back up tomorrow hoo boy hoping for a chill semester hahaa, we'll see how it goes. the last chunk of this story is largely pre-written but I'm also notorious for rewrites so I'll try and keep on top of it. 
> 
> thanks for reading! <3


	5. Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonel and the Sergeant head back to Hatchetfield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used some lyrics from the song Ultralife by Oh Wonder in this chapter because I cannot write my own song lyrics lmao

The quarantine facility echoed with the wail of the alarm. Tom's heart was racing, he could feel the blood pumping in his ears. It was too loud, too familiar. He wanted to cover his ears and block out the noise, but he couldn't move. He was frozen in more ways than one - the ice was even in his chest, encasing his lungs so he could hardly breathe.

He jumped with a start when the knocks came, smashing through the ice with a hammer.

"Mr. Houston?" Someone called from outside his room.

"Who's out there? What the hell's going on?" He wished his voice wouldn't shake so much.

"It's the Sergeant, I ran your questioning. There's a threat in the base, but we're taking care of it. Nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Houston." Another knock, softer this time. "I just came to check up on the recovering patients."

"Alright, yeah…"

Still shaken, Tom swallowed thickly and tried to steady his hands. He stood up from his chair and headed for the door to let the Sergeant in, but as he pressed his thumb down on the lock something dawned on him. Unease weighed down in his stomach.

This Sergeant didn't sound like the one he'd been speaking with recently.

"...Sergeant Faren?" He asked.

A force pushed in on the unlocked door. Tom tried to hold it shut but the Sergeant was stronger than him, and through the crack he could just see them lift their visor. The sight of their bright blue eyes sent Tom's heart plummeting to the floor. He faltered, stumbling back as the door swung open.

"Sergeant Carson, actually!" They smiled brightly.

"Wait, no, you were- they said you were left on the island,"

Tom fumbled, unable to concentrate with the alarm still drilling his skull. Too many bad things were happening at once.

"That siren's loud, huh?" Carson remarked. "Don't worry, we'll shut it off in a minute, the General's headed to security."

Tom backed up. His hands stopped shaking when they clenched into fists and he shifted into a fighting stance. He felt a little more steady. The threat was clear now - he could fight it.

"Get the fuck away from me."

Carson's head tipped to the side. Their brows creased into a sympathetic smile, blue slime dripping from between their teeth.

"Tom, I hope you don't think I'm here to hurt you! I'm with the Hive now, we've come to bring you back home."

"Don't even try it, I'm not going back. I'm not some sick, shiny, happy, singing fuckin' drone anymore."

"Oh, you've been away too long." Carson lowered their head in shame. "It was cruel to take you from the family, Tom, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what I was doing, and now you've lost all your happy memories. I'll make up for it, though, trust me you're going to feel very silly for being frightened in a minute."

"I'm not frightened." Tom flexed his fist. "I just don't want someone else pulling my strings again."

"Don't make me do this the hard way, that's not a game we want to play."  _ Oh great, rhyming.  _ "Join us again, come home on your own. Your absence has us all thrown."

"Jesus Christ."

"Your son misses you."

Tom's jaw clenched, his teeth ground together. "Don't talk about Tim. Don't try and use him against me."

"It was PEIP who took you from him, Tom. The Hive's been taking care of him, he's with the king and queen right now. They're watching over the child these soldiers  _ abandoned _ on the island, you'd best direct your anger at the right people."

Tom flexed his fist and stepped forward, sending a solid right hook directly into the side of Carson's jaw. Their head snapped up diagonally and they stumbled backwards, dazed.

"I said  _ don't." _

Carson wiped a bit of blood from their mouth with the back of their hand and smiled solemnly, a low hum coming from the back of their throat.

"Alright, if the hard way is what you want."

\--

Hatchetfield was buzzing. Not a single person was still, jiving and jittering like children before a dance recital. The entire island was a cacophony of vocals and excited chatter. The energy was strong and rising and no one was sure if it would ever settle, but then again no one really wanted it to.

They were a mass of rabid theatre kids loose in a Denny's, quickly approaching opening night for the show that would never end. The whole cast was dying for the curtains to open.

Paul and Emma walked along the island borders reciting scales, taking this opportunity to burrow as far into each other's heads as possible. The more in sync they were, the stronger the Hive's connection. Tim trailed in step behind them, singing along, and others nearby who felt inclined sang too.

_ "Do, do-re-do, do-re-mi-re-do, do-re-mi-fa-mi-re-do," _

They sang the scale in rounds, no need for cues, and when it was complete it felt like a loose thread was pulled tight and tied up. Paul leaned down to nose against Emma's cheek and she jingled happily, nestling to his chest.

Their army had taken the boats and made it inside the base in Clivesdale. Their numbers were growing, bit by bit, one apotheosis after another. Nice and gradual, so PEIP would never be able to tell who was with them and who wasn't. There wasn't a worry to be had in the world. Soon their ever-growing family would be whole again. Everything was perfect.

Well, maybe not  _ everything. _

The  _ Hive _ was perfect. And knowing that, feeling that, for once without the slightest hint of doubt, allowed its power to course through them uninhibited. Paul's confidence was the highest it had ever been. He felt strong and sure and  _ finally  _ happy, and oh,  _ so _ in love. A beautiful thing, loving in the Hive. Emma's hand slipped down to lace with his, a pulse of warmth spreading up his arm into his veins when she squeezed. It was power and joy and the purest, strongest love, that jolted a rhythm into Paul's heart. He couldn't keep from singing if he wanted to, and he didn't.

_ "Lovesick, the beat inside my head," _

Emma beamed, squeezing his arm tighter.  _ "Waves struck a sea of bitterness," _

Together;  _ "Lights out, solo in the blue, before I found you." _

Paul lifted Emma's chin to kiss her softly, both careful not to get carried away with Tim still trailing behind. Besides, they couldn't get too wrapped up in each other with what was going on across the waters.

"Oh!" Emma bristled at the news rushing through her bones.

She and Paul shared a look. In seconds they crumbled into a fit of excited giggles. He lifted her into a spin, holding her up high by the waist until his shoulders started to give way. She landed on the perfectly pointed toes of her good foot, though, and twirled around to pull Tim into the celebration. He took her hands and joined in her cheerful note.

They didn't need to speak, they'd all felt it. Another apotheosis had come and passed.

\--

Faren's leg had been shaking like mad for the entire helicopter ride.

"Look at them down there." Schaeffer remarked, poking her head out the hanger door as the chopper descended towards the island. "I'll give 'em this, their choreography is impressive. They even look good from the air."

"Yeah, I bet it'll look real good when they rip our fucking throats out!" Faren's laugh was shrill and terrified.

Her fists were clenched into the seat, so tight her shoulders trembled. Schaeffer placed a hand on her arm.

"Take a breath, Sergeant. You're ready for this."

"Am I?!"

"You said you were, I hope you weren't lying to me. It doesn't matter either way, you have to be. If we fail tonight, we've fucked the whole planet. This is the last chance, it all rides on us."

Faren nodded. "Do or die. Probably die."

Schaeffer sighed and gave Faren a pat. "That's the spirit. Come on, this is low enough. We're taking a drop."

They were just low enough to drop safely into the island's surrounding waters with minimal chance of drawing attention to themselves. Faren unbuckled her seatbelt with shaking hands, but didn't seem able to stand. With another huff Schaeffer grabbed her around the waist and yanked her along, both of them tumbling out of the chopper and into the waters below.

Schaeffer surfaced first, quickly grabbing Faren in a headlock to muffle her panicked sputtering when she joined.

"Shh!" Schaeffer hissed. "Remember, it's a stealth mission. Let's go." 

They dipped underwater again and swam towards the shore. Ground rose under their feet and they edged along the bank. Suddenly Schaeffer's eyes widened and she batted at Faren's arm, splashing more than necessary.

Faren followed where the Colonel was pointing, and there they were. Paul and Emma, pressed so close together it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. She leaned her weight on him, heavy limp visible proof of Faren's theory. It didn't seem to hurt her, though - she still walked in step, blissful as ever. After a moment Faren noticed the Houston boy trailing behind them.

"Holy sh-" Faren was silenced again with Schaffer's hand over her mouth, as she pulled them both back underwater so only their eyes were above surface. 

Paul and Emma were too enamored with each other to notice them, and Tim's eyes weren't even open. He was lost in his own little tune, assuredly following the other two's presence in his head with complete trust. They looked like a sweet little family, it was almost endearing. Almost.

Schaeffer waited until they passed out of sight to start moving again. 

"They're… They're  _ right there.  _ They're right there and they're not even paying attention, we can get them right now!" Faren said, getting a foothold to climb onto the beach.

"Slow down, soldier. They're still dangerous, and now we have to take the child into account."

"We'll just take him back too, won't we? He's Tom's boy."

"Infected children are  _ wildly  _ unpredictable. You heard what happened when we first tried to take the older Foster girl - her sister went ballistic. If the boy notices us coming for his guardians there's a good chance he'll turn feral."

Faren nodded, biting her lip. "Copy that."

"Just follow my lead, I know how we can play this."

The Colonel and the Sergeant stayed close to the ground as they edged from the water. They moved slowly, though Faren was antsy. Schaeffer remained adamant that the risk of being caught was far heftier than the risk of briefly losing ground on the targets. It was a fairly small island, after all - how far away could they get? So the two-agent force tracked cautiously, waiting for the right moment.

\--

Schaeffer's plan made sense, it was the best shot they had. Faren kept mentally repeating that, trying to convince herself as she trailed a ways behind the targets, alone.

Schaeffer had left her.

"There's a better chance if we split up." She'd said. "If they catch both of us we're fucked, but if they only catch one she can stall while the other sneaks up behind. Best case scenario, you take out Perkins and I'll get Matthews when his back is turned. He won't hear me coming."

Faren knew better than to protest again, so she'd just nodded.

Now she watched, concealed in a brush at the edge of the park, tuning out the cheerful humming in the air to try and listen for threats. She ducked below the foliage when the trio suddenly stopped. Paul bent down with his hands on his knees and Emma held onto his arm, gesturing between the two of them as she addressed the Houston boy. Paul said something, too, and Tim nodded, and Emma ruffled up his hair and sent him along in a different direction. 

...Alone.

Faren took a deep breath to steady her heartbeat and wetted her dry lips.  _ Why had they sent the kid away? _

She shook her head.  _ Don't try and rationalize, not now.  _ She stood back up to continue following as they started moving again. They looked distracted - singing to each other.

This was the right time. She just needed a clear shot.

She walked a little faster to lessen the distance, readying her tranq with shaking hands as she went. She lifted it to eye level. She steadied her hands. She locked her aim on the back of Emma's thigh. She took a deep breath. Her finger pressed against the trigger, ready to take the shot-

They'd stopped again. They turned around. They were both looking right at her.

_ Wait, what? _

They were moving towards her.

_ Now, now, now!  _ Faren shouted at herself in her mind regardless of her panic, but before she could move her tranq was knocked from her grip and a cold hand closed around her throat.

_ "Thank you, Alice!" _ She heard Emma sing.

_ "You're welcome!" _ A voice sang back.

Glancing around desperately for the source of the line Faren spotted a teenage girl in a pink jumper sitting on a park bench not too far from where she'd been crouched a moment ago. The girl promptly stopped her cheerful humming and scurried out of the fray.

_ Fuck. _

Struggling to regain her bearings, Faren looked up, right into Paul's narrowed eyes. Bright blue bled into white, swirling with rage. They creased at the edges with his sickeningly wide smile as the growl of a hunting predator rose in his chest.

"Nice to see you again, Sergeant."

Faren screamed. She shouldn't have, she knew that. Schaeffer would berate her for it if they got out of this alive, but she just couldn't help it.

"Help! Help me!" She cried, trying to claw out of Paul's grip.

"You know, I really wish we could, but…" Paul sucked an apologetic breath through his teeth. "Unfortunately you fucked up pretty bad the last time you dropped by. You stepped out of line."

On cue, Emma pranced up to wrap herself around Paul's free arm. She lay her head on his shoulder and twinkled her fingers in a sinister little wave, and suddenly Faren knew exactly what he was talking about. She tried to speak but he tightened his grip and all that came out were choking sounds. Jesus, he was strong.

"Ah-ah," Paul tutted in disapproval. "I'm talking. You'd think a Sergeant would have some basic respect."

"Very rude." Emma agreed.

"Mm. What do you think we should do with her, dove?"

Emma's eyes twinkled as she considered the possibilities.

"Let's rip her throat open first," she began, staring Faren right in the eyes like she was already visualizing the carnage. "Then dig into her chest and snap her ribs one by one, and then tear out her heart…"

Paul leaned down to let her whisper the rest in his ear, like she was telling him a secret. He growled and pulled her closer by the hip, earning a giggle when he nuzzled into her neck. Slime dripped from his mouth and stained her skin while she played absently with the lapel of his jacket. They hummed against each other. In their murderous dirty talk it was like they'd completely forgotten Faren was even there.

The Sergeant grimaced at the display and noticed that Paul had loosened his grip on her throat enough for her to slip out on her own. She had to try and stall until Schaeffer found them. She could speak - she could try to reason.

"Look, I'm- I'm trying to help you!" She cried desperately. "You're both sick! This whole town is sick, but PEIP can cure you! I  _ know  _ you don't really want to hurt anyone."

"You don't know that." Emma spat.

"Yes I do! Yes I do, Emma, from what the Colonel's told me I know you're strong, you're a fighter, but you're not a monster. You're not the one ripping out throats, it's what the Hive made you. And-! And Paul, your neighbor Becky? She says you're gentle and kind and sensitive, and none of what she's heard sounds like you. Neither of you are violent, neither of you want this, you're just- just too sick to remember it right now! Let me take you back to HQ, let me help you!"

Faren flicked her pleading gaze between Paul and Emma, feeling her stomach drop when they broke into laughter. In some sick way it sounded like music, Emma the bells and Paul the piano.

"Oh, wow, that's rich." Paul said, wiping a tear from his eye.

"As if you know  _ anything _ about us!" Emma cackled. She stepped away from Paul to get up in Faren's face, the taller woman recoiling at the scent of poison vomit on her breath. She grabbed Faren by the hair and lowered her voice to a hiss. "You don't know a fucking thing about us or our Hive, and you have no right to come here and tell us who we were."

Thinking quick, Faren brought her knee up into the thigh of Emma's bad leg and she buckled, releasing the Sergeant's hair. For extra assurance she shoved Emma to the ground. The girl clutched her thigh and howled in pain. This would have been the perfect opportunity, were her tranq not six feet away and Paul not snarling like a rabid animal.

For a split second it was a stalemate. Faren glanced at her tranq sitting in the grass and considered her chances. Paul stared, eyes wild, slime pouring from between his bared teeth. That split second seemed to last for ages until Emma hummed low in her throat, the notes of a death chime.

_ "Kill her." _

Paul attacked. He knocked Faren to the ground with a powerful kick to the stomach and pinned her down with his foot on her chest.

"Think nice and hard about your last words," he growled, "because Apotheosis is too good for you."

Aubrey Faren was prepared to die for her country, for her planet. But that didn't mean she had to  _ want  _ to. It didn't mean she wasn't allowed to be frightened. This was it, she was going to die slowly and painfully, and she couldn't even try to scream for the Colonel lest she risk completely ruining the mission. It hit her hard - she was dying alone. A sob escaped her throat and she braced back against the asphalt to try and delay the inevitable. As she did, though, her hand brushed against something hard and plastic. A surge of hope shot through her heart -  _ her tranq.  _

If she could just get a grip on it… But Paul's foot moved to clamp down on her wrist, grinding it into the asphalt. She cried out in pain at the force, definitely feeling something snap. She sobbed again, a pathetic whimper escaping her before she could stop it.

"P-please,"

Paul bent down over her, taking that as her choice for a final word. "Too late."

He hummed low to himself to get amped for the kill. He moved his foot back to her chest to hold her down, freeing her to try and grab weakly for her tranq. He wasn't a moron, though, delivering a swift kick to the side of her skull to daze her just enough without knocking her out, then dropping to his knees and wrapping his hands tight around her neck. His thumbs pressed into the base of her throat, ready to dig in and rip out her trachea. He moved slowly, savoring it, but she could feel his nails starting to break the skin. Once he'd ripped into her he would lose all control for sure.

Finally Faren's hand managed to close around her tranq. She lifted it, grip steady with adrenaline, and faced it towards Paul's side. She couldn't see to aim, but it didn't matter. She had to shoot.

"Hey Matthews," she choked. "Long live the king."

Paul tensed as the dart sunk into his hip, his nails digging hard into Faren's skin. She hacked, feeling her blood pool out and drip down the sides of her neck and tasting copper in her mouth. The pressure released, though, when Paul collapsed sideways just barely off of her.

"Paul?" Emma cried, leaping to her feet now. "Stardust?"

She rushed over, the limp in her step significantly more noticeable. Though powered by pure alien adrenaline and fury she still managed to grab Faren by the vest and yank her to her feet, wrapping her arms around the Sergeant's neck like she was ready to snap it.

"I'm gonna rip your fucking head off!"

Faren didn't have a chance to react or even speak before she'd hit the ground again. Emma was completely overtaken by rage, no clear goal behind her blows other than causing Faren as much pain as possible. She screamed and wailed and beat Faren within an inch of her life, and all the Sergeant could wonder was  _ where the FUCK is Colonel Schaeffer? _

On an almost too-perfect cue, Emma suddenly froze. Her eyes fell heavy though she fought to keep them open, inevitably collapsing her weight on top of Faren. A tranquilizer dart stuck out from her back.

Faren blinked slowly, shadows surrounding her vision. Above her stood Colonel Schaeffer, cheek dripping with bloody scratch marks and nose crooked, wearing the most fear-stricken expression Faren had ever seen. A wave of relief swept over her, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!! I struggled a lot with this chapter but I think I'm satisfied with how it turned out. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	6. Wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone deals with a lot in a very short span of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE, I'm sorry for the wait, I had a few moments here where I felt I'd written myself into a corner but I got out of it! hope you enjoy!

News travels fast.

It swept through Hatchetfield in half a second and in the time it took Schaeffer to exhale every last infected in PEIP HQ knew, too.

Lex had been standing just back from the door to her and Hannah's quarters in quarantine, stance ready, grip tight around the standing lamp from the corner. It was raised over her head, primed to attack when the heavy, rhythmic pounding from outside inevitably broke down the door. Hannah was hidden somewhere in the room - Lex didn't know where. That was intentional. She'd made the mistake of knowing last time.

_ "Leeeex," _

"Fuck  _ off,  _ Mr. Houston!"

That basic exchange had been going on for a while. And then the pounding just… stopped.

Time stood still.

Then Hannah spoke.

"Quiet."

"Hannah, shh."

A few more moments passed before Hannah emerged from her hiding spot and rushed up to the door and pressed her ear up against it.

"Hannah!"

"It's quiet." Hannah repeated.

Lex thought for a second before joining her sister and knocking on the door. "Yo, uh, Mr. Houston? You still out there?"

No response. The girls looked at each other.

A moment passed before the hurried sound of scuffling feet filled the hallway outside and quickly disappeared.

"What the hell?" Lex asked no one in particular. She turned back to her sister. "Should I check outside?" Hannah shrugged. "Alright, fuck it, stay behind me."

Hannah hid behind while Lex slowly twisted the lock and pulled the door open, just a crack. She peeked out into the empty hallway. Down at the end of the quarantine facility she could see Becky's door hanging off its hinges. Tom's hung open across the hall. A little closer Gerald Monroe had lost his door altogether. For a moment Lex thought she and Hannah were the only ones left in the facility, until Gerald poked his head out as well and locked eyes with her.

"Rich dude?"

"Young lady!"

Lex grimaced. "Lex."

"Of course, of course," he nodded frantically, his hands scrabbling on the doorway. "They've failed to keep us safe here, I'm going to be in touch with my attorney when this is finished, I hope they know that."

"Good for you? Dude, what the fuck's going on out there?"

"I have no clue, all I know is the alarms went off, I heard yelling, the alarms stopped, and then Becky Barnes broke down my door and  _ attacked me.  _ I see why my wife hates that woman." Gerald shuddered at the memory. "I did my best to fight her off but suddenly she just stopped. She looked around, like she was afraid, and then just… ran off. I saw Tom Houston run by, too."

"Something must've happened."

Hannah tugged on Lex's shirt. "Lovebirds."

"What?"

"The Hive's frightened. Lovebirds…" Hannah scrunched up her nose like she was trying to find the right word. "They're sleeping."

Lex nodded slowly.

Gerald tapped his fingers on the wall anxiously. "Are they going to come back?"

"Man, I don't know!" Lex flung her arms up wildly. "I don't remember how this shit works, I don't even know how they could've gotten here!"

"Well," Gerald glanced back down the hall like he was worried something would sneak up behind him. "Your door looks intact, could I join you? Just in case?"

Lex raised a brow. "You gonna start singing?"

Gerald shook his head. Lex sighed and beckoned him inside, locking the door back up fast behind him. They settled in to wait and find out what would happen next.

\--

"So… what are we supposed to do now?" The hearty strum of Charlotte's voice sounded over the town square, asking the question nobody wanted to.

"Wait to die." Ted answered matter-of-factly, sitting up on the edge of the town fountain.

"Don't think that way, Ted." Melissa scolded. "It can't just be…  _ over. _ Not for us, not that fast."

"Can't it? Look, the army's  _ clearly _ not that fond of us. I doubt they're taking Paul and Emma to fuckin' Disneyland, and as long as they're out cold we won't know. They're as good as dead, and when they go we  _ all  _ do."

Bill shook his head. "No, they wouldn't just kill them. That's… they wouldn't."

"They will."

"They didn't kill everyone else they took," Ethan Green piped up from somewhere in the crowd. "My girl's fine, she's out in Clivesdale somewhere."

"But she's not one of us anymore." Deb protested.

"Can it, pothead!"

"You know I'm right, they took her and changed her and we haven't gotten her back, and now we probably never will."

Ethan shoved his way through the mass of people that would have moved on their own were they not so off-beat, and glowered down at Deb when he found her. He hummed a low warning tone and she puffed out her chest.

"I oughta sock you right in the fuckin' nose if you don't pipe down, Deb."

"Try me, Grease Lightnin'."

"Oh-ho," Ethan moved forward.

Before things could escalate any further, Alice swooped in between them and shoved him away.

"Back off, Ethan!" She yelled, shielding Deb protectively. "I'm sorry they took Lex, okay? I miss her too. But we don't need this right now. They have my Uncle Paul and we have to figure out if there's anything we can do about it before we can't do anything at all."

"The army took all the boats, and the Nantucket Bridge is still up. There's no way off the island." Nora said solemnly.

"I'm afraid all we can do is put our trust in the General." Professor Hidgens said. "With the army so far away and the source of our greater connection down, there's no way to know what will happen."

Up on the edge of the fountain, Ted slumped back on his elbows. "So we're back to waiting to die. Great."

\--

Colonel Schaeffer was near-catatonic in her seat. Strapped in secure beside her, Sergeant Faren looked like a car crash victim. Paul and Emma were sprawled on the floor, somehow having managed to curl around each other unconsciously. Faren had been right about Paul being crooked - it looked as though his body could come apart at the seams at any moment, he lay so loose and broken. 

The Houston boy was out cold in Schaeffer's lap, his drool on her shoulder and her blood crusted beneath his fingernails. She kept shifting, partly because she had no idea how to hold an unconscious child and partly because he was  _ way  _ too close for comfort if he woke up again. They'd crossed paths on the island and, as expected, he'd gone rabid.

"For the love of  _ God,  _ say something." The pilot, Ryker, yelled suddenly from the front of the chopper.

When Schaeffer exhaled it felt like she'd been holding her breath for the last five minutes.

"I'm…" She struggled to find the right words.

Her mind was in overdrive. What if the Sergeant died before she reached the emergency wing? What if they never  _ did  _ reach the emergency wing? What was waiting for them back at headquarters - what if she, Ryker and Faren were the only humans left? And even in the best case scenario, where they got Faren to safety and Paul and Emma to quarantine, there was one worry weighing her down from day one that she hadn't been able to shake.

What if they were too far gone to cure?

Schaeffer sniffed.

"I'm… frightened."

She heard Ryker sigh.

"I am, too."

And somehow, Schaeffer felt like she could breathe again.

\--

Schaeffer could sense the chaos throughout the base as they touched down, but by some miracle the landing was empty. The kid still in her arms, she climbed down to meet Ryker, who stood stoic and at attention in spite of his pounding heart.

"Soldier. You and I are likely some of the only humans left on this base. Are you ready to walk into the fray?" He nodded. "Alright. Here's the plan. I'll run the boy down to quarantine and find someone to look after him. You take the Sergeant to the emergency wing. We come back here and get Matthews and Perkins to the isolated lock-ups in quarantine, get them vaccinated  _ immediately. _ It's risky, but it's the only option we have. No matter what happens, or who you see, do  _ not  _ stop moving. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Colonel."

Schaeffer nodded, satisfied, and Ryker climbed back up to retrieve Faren from her seat. They headed for the doors, finding quiet solace in the knowledge they were both scared shitless, and sprinted off in different directions.

The hallways were flooded with people running aimlessly. No one had an objective, no one knew what was going on. Everyone was panicking.

Schaeffer plowed through the chaos, her objective tunneling her vision so she didn't register who around her was human and who wasn't. The closer she got to quarantine she saw a flash of red hair speed past her, unconsciously recognizing Becky Barnes. Seconds later someone knocked into her shoulder with enough force to spin her in a 180, and before she could keep moving her eyes met those of one Tom Houston, and suddenly her legs wouldn't move.

His nose was broken, face slick with blue blood, but his eyes were soft. He looked at his son, and up at Schaeffer, and something in his expression was just heartwrenching enough. The infected were manipulators, she knew that. She also knew that during his time in quarantine Tom had only ever asked whether his son was safe.

_ Get going, Schaeffer. Don't stop for anything. _

But she couldn't move.

Tom reached out but didn't try to take Tim, just gently pushed the boy's curly hair from his eyes. Even out cold, Tim recognized him. He hummed softly.

Schaeffer looked between them, frantic and frozen. She didn't have time to think, let alone justify herself. She handed the boy over to his father.

She backed up quick, circling Tom carefully in case he tried to do something while her back was turned, but all he did was hug his son. She could see his lips moving, definitely singing something. He didn't acknowledge her again, and she turned around and sprinted back to the helipad landing before any of the other infected could catch her.

As she approached the chopper she saw movement and promptly reached back for her gun.

"Who's there?" She yelled. "Come out slow or I will shoot."

"The Sergeant's in pretty rough shape, poor girl." General McNamara edged into clear sight in the chopper doorway, crouching low. "Be a shame to have to lose her this way."

"Step out of the chopper, John." McNamara glanced back hesitantly - Paul and Emma still lay unconscious. Schaeffer rolled her eyes. "They're not going anywhere."

He dropped down and stepped forward slowly, holding his hands up.

"Don't suddenly get trigger-happy on me now, Schaeffer. This base is full of us and right now  _ you _ are public enemy number one. Now,  _ I  _ don't want to hurt you, so let's take this easy and just talk. Me and you. Not General to Colonel, just John to Helen."

Schaeffer grimaced. "Your calling-me-Helen privileges were revoked the second you got infected."

"McNamara to Schaeffer, then. Here's the deal - we save Faren. She heals, good as new. In return, you stop resisting and join us."

"Fuck you."

McNamara chuckled. "I really have missed your stubbornness, Schaeffer. Though if you really cared about keeping her from us you should have told that pilot not to leave her alone."

"...You didn't-"

"Consider it mercy."

Schaeffer's stomach dropped. The smug smile on McNamara's face made her want to throw up.

"You son of a bitch." She raised her gun, aiming for her General's forehead. "You sick  _ fucking  _ son of a bitch."

"Come on, Schaeffer. We both know you won't."

Schaeffer swallowed, hating how her hands trembled. He was right, she wouldn't. But she would do something else, something that could still give her a trump card. She took a wide step, sliding sideways across the floor so her view into the chopper was clear. McNamara watched curiously. She took a breath to steady her hands and lined up her shot. If she pulled the trigger and didn't falter, the bullet would find its place in Paul's brain. McNamara's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

"Take one step and I kill him." Schaeffer warned. "Perkins, too."

"Take it easy,"

"Shut the fuck up. You are  _ not  _ my General, I do not take orders from you."

"You can't  _ kill  _ them-" McNamara stepped forward and Schaeffer cocked the gun.

"Do you  _ want  _ to try me?"

McNamara threw both hands up and stepped back. Though Schaeffer had the high ground now, she felt backed into a corner. This was the only option she had, wasn't it? There was no chance of curing them now. Her options were to kill the targets, successfully wiping out the infection but failing to avoid fatality, or stay locked in a stalemate with McNamara until she was inevitably overpowered and taken in by the Hive, sure to have filled the entire base by now. She was trapped.

And then Emma sat up.

Far too early, the tranq should not have worn off yet, but she was awake and bright eyed and furious. She didn't have to get her bearings to yank the still unconscious Paul into her arms and out of the line of fire, which Schaeffer quickly refocused on her. She snarled threateningly but otherwise took no action. She cradled Paul, tilting his chin up towards her.

"Emma?" McNamara spoke almost timidly, a shocking amount of respect in his voice for an army general addressing a barista.

Schaeffer didn't even think she'd ever seen him address his military superiors with that much respect.

"My leg hurts," Emma said quietly, her voice cracking.

McNamara hummed in sympathy. Emma looked down at Paul desperately like he held the solution. She caressed his cheek and jostled his shoulder and murmured sweet nothings in rhyme, but the man in her arms did not stir. He wasn't going to wake himself like Emma had. Still she ran her hand into his hair gently and kept trying to coax him to consciousness. She needed him to wake up, she needed him with her. Without him she was alone in an icy tundra, empty and shivering and shrouded in shadow. She needed his warmth. She needed him to stop the pain like he had before, like he always did.

Schaeffer cleared her throat and the girl's gaze snapped up to her, teeth bared and blue-stained.

"Get that fucking gun out of my face." She growled. "What, you're gonna shoot me for holding my boyfriend?"

"If I shoot you, it will be for brutalizing and infecting my field agents, and attempting to kill a sergeant." Schaeffer said.

_ "Just-!" _ Emma's hand shot to her head, a throbbing migraine piercing into her skull. She rubbed her temple and sighed through clenched teeth. She wasn't supposed to feel like this. "Just do whatever you want."

Her shoulders slumped and she hugged Paul closer.

"Buck up, Emma." McNamara encouraged before going back to humming.

The girl seemed to right herself slightly, ears perked like she was listening to something.

"Watch it." Schaeffer warned, stepping closer with her aim locked.

"You don't frighten me, Colonel Schaeffer." Emma's growl seemed to rumble through the helipad landing, amplifying McNamara's continued humming. "Right now I don't give a shit what you do to me. But  _ they  _ might."

"What are you talking-"

Schaeffer's heart froze as she slowly turned around and realized McNamara wasn't the only source of the humming. Faced with a horde of blue-eyed soldiers lining the windows, she watched them clamor to see inside if they couldn't get through the door.

She spotted Faren, broken and battered but noticeably healing, leaning her weight on Xander. The definitive sight of her bright blue eyes made Schaeffer feel heavy. She lost her grip on her gun and it clattered to the floor.

This was her fault. If they'd just stayed together it wouldn't have come to this. The poor girl looked so blank, bloody hands pressed to the window, a slave to the woman who had so brutally beaten her. She looked towards Schaeffer but seemed to stare right through. Once again the Colonel couldn't breathe.

She felt an arm wrap around her neck from behind and glanced back at her General. McNamara forced her back around so she faced Emma again. Her eyes shut and she held a high note. Harmonies echoed through the landing and she bristled, accepting the strength flooding into her from the collective. When her eyes opened they shined impossibly blue. She turned back to Paul, tracing her thumb down his cheek and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

_ "My beating heart belongs to you. I walked for miles 'til I found you. I'm here to honor you, if I lose everything in the fire-" _

_ "I'm sending all my love to you." _

It didn't seem that Emma's glow could get any brighter, but it did.

"Paul!" She hugged him tighter, and even Schaeffer could almost feel the Hive's collective sigh of relief.

The man's head hung back loosely like it might roll off his neck, and his arm twitched limp and erratically at his side. He choked and blue shit poured from his mouth. Still he smiled, though, and the glow of his eyes matched Emma's. He wrapped an arm around her and let his head fall to her shoulder.

"You're okay, right?" He asked, muffled.

"Yeah, baby." Emma pet his hair and kissed the top of his head. "We're okay."

Paul hummed. Emma lifted his head and kissed him, and his strength came back instantly. They stood together, all prior hints of weakness or surrender falling away. They hummed to each other, the sound building through the landing.

_ Stronger together. _

Down on the ground Schaeffer snapped out of her frozen shock and started to struggle.

"I won't let you win!" She yelled. "It won't matter if I'm the last human on Earth, I'll-"

Paul snapped his fingers and McNamara clamped his hand over her mouth. He and Emma jumped down and slunk towards her.

"Let me make sure I have this right, I did just wake up." He counted on his fingers as he spoke. "You abducted our family. You stalked us. You  _ drugged  _ us and took us from our home. And you think you can walk back onto Hive turf  _ with _ its king and queen after all that and stand  _ any  _ chance of winning? Statistically, that's a pretty bad move."

Schaeffer thrashed in McNamara's grip. She felt like a child throwing a tantrum, but the stress of the last few months had culminated in this moment. She was exhausted, she was terrified, and she was furious. And worst of all, she knew that Paul was right. She'd rushed the mission in her panic and she'd fucked it up.

"It'll be over soon, though," Paul continued. "Don't worry. Come tomorrow you won't even remember what we're about to put you through."

"It's gonna be real fun to watch, though." Emma waved her hand and McNamara let go.

Schaeffer backed up frantically as Paul and Emma stayed on her toes. Their eyes were wild, crooked grins dripping blue. Schaeffer stumbled, barely catching herself, only to receive a hard shove from Emma. She hit the floor at the feet of the mass of infected.

Before she could try to stand Paul stomped down on her knee and she cried out.

"You're  _ never  _ going to take this away from us."

Emma delivered a kick to her head. "We'll make you regret ever trying."

"You will choke on your agony until you beg for Apotheosis."

Paul emphasized his threats with kicks to Schaeffer's ribs.

Her vision was blurring and her mind clouding, but somehow she managed to make out movement out of the corner of her eye. She blinked to clear the sting and squinted at the source - a soldier at the front of the horde with their visor down. No visible glow. She recognized the rank on the vest - pilot. 

Ryker had made it back. 

He was moving his hands low and out of rhythm; none of the infected noticed. Schaeffer realized after a moment they were signs. Nonverbal communication, for when stealth was imperative.

_ Trust me.  _

_ You're covered. _

_ Trust me. _

With her fist at her side she quickly signed back -  _ O.K.. _ Though it wasn't like there was much else she could do. She strained her head off the concrete, feeling it snap back at the next hard kick to her ribs. Grunting in pain and rapidly blinking to keep her vision clear, she trained her eyes on Paul and Emma taunting her from above. They looked up, away from her, and she searched for Ryker again only to find he'd vanished into the crowd.

Her life was in his hands.

"I think we've had our fun." Paul said. "We shouldn't keep her all for ourselves."

"Of course not." Emma shook her head and grabbed Paul's hand. They stepped back and the crowd above began to buzz. Emma swept her free hand towards the Colonel. "Fuckin' go for it."

Schaeffer was promptly blinded by the wall of blue, but before they could advance a gunshot rang out through the landing.

Time froze. Every blue eye turned in the same direction and Schaeffer lifted herself to her elbows to follow.

A few feet away, Paul stumbled back with a hand to his shoulder, blue blood seeping through the dark brown of his suit and staining his palm. He dropped to his knees, glass shadowing his eyes.

_ "Paul!" _ Emma shrieked, dropping with him. She pressed her hand over his, pulling him close. "It's okay, I've got you. I'm right here."

_ "Emma," _

"Shh, shh, I've got you. You'll heal, okay?" She shifted her bad leg, a quiver of doubt in her voice. 

No, he wouldn't die in the Hive. He couldn't. The grenade hadn't killed him, a bullet wouldn't either. He was the king. Emma couldn't conceive losing her king.

"You'll heal, Paul," she kept saying, more to convince herself because the pain was in her own shoulder and every voice in the Hive was frightened and that made her frightened. "My love, my stardust, my sweet Paul… You'll be okay."

Paul nodded, bringing his hand to her face and smearing blood on her already blue-stained cheek.

_ "I'm okay as long as I'm with you." _

And then he passed out.

Emma screamed.

It could've cracked the walls. It echoed out from the landing all through the base, and down in quarantine Hannah looked up and said;

"Fight's over."

Emma curled herself over Paul's chest, keeping pressure on his wound as best as she could despite her shaking and wailing. She knew what was coming. She could see through almost every eye in the landing. She didn't care.

Ryker holstered his gun and headed to help Schaeffer up, letting her lean her weight on him. Nobody tried to stop them.

"I knew we wouldn't get back to the lock-ups," he said, reaching into his pocket. "So I grabbed these while I was down there."

He pulled out two syringes filled with an opaque amber liquid - the cure.

"Jesus Christ," Schaeffer huffed. "God bless you, Ryker."

"You wanna do the honors? It's your mission."

Schaeffer took one of the vials and let the pilot lower her down beside Emma. Without lifting her head, the girl moved the loose hair from her bun away from her neck.

"I expected more of a fight." Schaeffer remarked.

"Just don't let him die," Emma whimpered, clutching Paul's jacket. "Please, don't let him die."

His chest still rose and fell steadily, if somewhat shakily.

Schaeffer felt herself soften. They really were still people under this infection. Sick and corrupted, sure, but still people. People who loved and longed and didn't want to lose. Schaeffer understood that. No matter what they'd done, it wasn't their fault. She had to try not to hold it against them.

She placed a gentle hand on Emma's back.

"You're both going to be fine." She promised.

"Okay."

Emma turned her head so her neck was fully exposed, and let Schaeffer inject her. She quickly went slack over Paul's chest, losing consciousness herself.

And with the connection of the king and queen damaged to near severance, every last infected in PEIP HQ as well as Hatchetfield felt something inside them flicker out, and collapsed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! <3


	7. Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul fights back.

"What's his deal?" Schaeffer asked, watching Paul fight against the restraints strapping him to his bed. "You gave him the vaccine, didn't you?"

"He's resisting it." Dr. Kirk - who had miraculously evaded the infiltration by hiding in the bathroom - said from his place at the heart monitor.

"Is that possible?"

"Evidently it's possible for him."

Two days had passed. After some final physical observation and waiting to see if Paul's gunshot wound would heal, it was finally time to officially put an end to the Hive. But of course it couldn't be as easy as a simple shot, no, the universe had to give this mission one last "fuck you."

Schaeffer leaned on her cane and snapped her fingers above Paul's head to get his attention. His eyes were completely engulfed in blue light but he was staring straight at her, she could tell. One twitched erratically, along with the corner of his mouth. His teeth were bared, stained from lack of care with poison vomit.

It was fascinating how a man so strong could suddenly look so weak. His eyes were deeply shadowed, his skin pale and sunken. A sheen of sickly sweat coated his forehead and his hair had lost its clean shine. Every part of his body jerked and twitched. He remained silent, not even bothering to sing.

"You don't suppose it's like a fever?" Schaeffer mused. "If we let it sit long enough the infection will just… break? Let him go, and he'll be himself again?"

"I suppose it  _ could  _ be possible in this case, but I don't think it's a good idea." Dr. Kirk said. "Every injury he has was frozen in stasis by his infected body, only healed enough to keep him alive. If the pathogen leaves him while he's under a strain like this it could very likely kill him. The safest option is to calm him down so he stops fighting on his own - he'll still be in pain once he comes down, but I'll be able to help him."

"What about Perkins, how is she doing?"

At the mention of her, Paul's struggling calmed to mere twitching, though his company didn't notice. He watched them, listening intently.

"Better, the vaccine has mostly done its job but she's definitely still hanging on. It has to be some specialized connection, I don't think she can let go until Matthews does."

"Jesus, always another damn obstacle." Schaeffer scrubbed an exasperated hand down her face. "This mission has to end, this town needs its rest. My  _ soldiers  _ need a fucking rest."

"I know, Colonel. We're in the home stretch, though. I can handle this, you join your team and take care of rehabilitation on the island."

Schaeffer nodded and turned to head out the door, but not before casting another look at Paul. She snapped her fingers above him again and he jerked towards her violently, scrunching up his nose.

"I'm not a f-fucking dog," He grumbled.

"Yeah well, you're not a king either." Schaeffer said. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Matthews. I'm pulling for you - the  _ real  _ you."

She limped out of the room, leaving Paul with the doctor. A good majority of the base had been infected during the infiltration, so it was slim pickings for dealing with the aftermath. Schaeffer had a small team of agents watching over Hatchetfield while its citizens adjusted, and Kirk was aided by two scientists managing PEIP's recovering infected while he focused on Paul and Emma. It wasn't enough, but it was all they had.

"So, Paul," Kirk said. "Are you ready to work with me?"

"T-tell me where Emma is."

"She's fine."

"Not what I asked."

"Imagine that."

With an angry shout and a rush of adrenaline Paul snapped one of his arms free and grabbed Kirk by the collar. He yanked the doctor down to his eye level and let slime drip down his chin.

"I can still kill you."

"I don't think you will, Paul."

Though Paul seemed pretty dead-set, neither ever found out for sure, as they were interrupted by a shout from outside the door.

"Hannah! Get the fuck back here!"

Following close after was a frantic knock on the locked door. In the surprise Kirk wrenched himself free of Paul's grip to open the door just a crack and was met with the wide-eyed face of Hannah Foster. Not a second later Lex caught up and collected the girl into her arms.

"What are you two doing out of quarantine?" Kirk demanded.

"I couldn't get her to calm down, she's- Hannah, stop squirming!" Lex wrapped her arms tight around Hannah's middle to keep her still.

"No!" Hannah yelled.

"What is up with you? You said today is a good day!"

"This area is restricted, you girls need to go back to your quarters." Kirk moved to escort them away, clearing their view of Paul who watched from his bed.

Hannah met his eyes and kicked to get out of Lex's grip.

"Lovebirds!"

"That's what she calls them. I don't know why." Lex said. "She wants to see the dude, said her imaginary friend wants her to 'talk to the prophet'...?"

Kirk shot a glance back at Paul, who still hadn't moved despite his free arm.

"He's very dangerous-"

"I w-won't hurt a little girl," Paul said. "We d-don't hurt anyone who doesn't d-deserve it."

"Nice moral code." Lex scoffed.

"Thank you."

"Dumbass."

Hannah kept squirming. "Let me go, fake happy, unfair game…"

"We don't even know this guy, Banana."

"Yes we  _ do!" _

Hannah forced herself out of Lex's hold and slipped through the cracked door before she could be grabbed again.

"You can't be in here-!" Kirk tried to reason again before Hannah kicked his shin.

Lex almost laughed but shut herself up. Hannah was already standing at Paul's bedside. There was no worry in her stance, no clear understanding of what he was capable of, it seemed as though she was merely visiting a family member in a regular hospital. She studied him intently. Paul still twitched, but his expression was curious, something of recognition. Kirk and Lex just watched from the door, bewildered. After what felt like hours, Hannah spoke.

"You're a prophet."

Very slowly, as if considering the title, Paul nodded.

"They treated you bad." Hannah continued. "The game they played was mean and they didn't play fair. They tricked you."

Paul blinked. "I w-was difficult."

Hannah shook her head. "Still not fair. The Hive is bad."

"You were part of it. I r-remember you."

"You tried to stop it. Webby told me. The Hive is bad, the prophet is good."

"Well m-maybe Webby is a s-stupid bitch."

"They used you. Puppet."

Blood began to drip from Paul's nose. "S-stop it,"

"Fake happy."

_ "Stop." _

"...She's getting through to him." Dr. Kirk realized.

"What? How?" Lex poked her head further inside.

"Hell if I know, but it's working."

"Inevitable." Hannah said, and Paul thrashed with a pained yell.

Kirk took the girl's shoulders gently and led her away from the bed.

"You've done enough, Hannah, thank you. Let me take it from here."

Hannah looked at the doctor and back at Paul, seeming satisfied enough to rejoin her sister back at the door. Kirk placed his hand on the mattress so Paul could feel the weight shift and snapped his eyes open. The glow had dimmed to a natural blue in one of them.

"You're only hurting yourself, Paul." Kirk said gently. "You have to let go now."

"I c-can't," As Paul's body shook violently, cold, blue tears fell from his eyes. "I've n- _ never been happy," _

The notes were shaky, pulled from his throat by force. Kirk cupped his gloved hand over Paul's mouth and his eyes shut as he let out a sigh of relief. Kirk bent down a little closer, intrigued.

"You don't like singing, do you, Paul?" He shook his head. "And you don't want to rule the world, either. That's all the Hive controlling your thoughts, isn't it?" A shaky nod. "That's it, just breathe. Look at me, Paul."

He opened his eyes. The glow had completely faded in one eye, and was dimming in the other.

"You're doing so well, Paul. You can do this, just let go. You want to be free, right?" Another nod. "You don't want to sing and dance anymore?" Head shake. "What's got you fighting so hard, then? What's kept you happy in the Hive all this time?"

Paul sobbed into Kirk's palm, more tears rolling down his cheeks. Still at the door, Hannah tugged on her sister's sleeve and whispered; "Queen."

Kirk removed his hand from Paul's mouth to let him answer.

"E- _ Emmaaaa," _

He clamped his mouth shut the second the name left it, like he was ashamed to admit it.

"Emma's not going anywhere, Paul. She's just down the hall, okay? Wouldn't you rather be with her as the real you?"

"I w-want to be with the r-real  _ her," _ Paul admitted, nodding frantically.

"Then you have to let go."

"Okay… okay, okay…"

Paul squeezed his eyes shut. The more the infection stripped away, the stronger the surges of pain all through his body became. He felt his heartbeat quicken, out of any discernible rhythm, and the pain became consuming. It was everywhere, eating at his insides, splitting his skull, reminding him very quickly how agonizing it could be, being human.

It was too much too fast. Paul threw his head back and released every ounce of pain that should have healed in the loudest, most violent scream he could possibly muster.

It was sonic. It was powerful. Kirk felt it rattle in his skull, making all his muscles lock up. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a heap on the floor. In the doorway, Lex barely managed to shield Hannah from the impact before it knocked them both out, too. The scream using up the last of his energy, Paul followed close behind.

\--

Emma.

_ Emma. _

"Emma?"

"Hi, Paul."

She was a ghost in his head, fading by the minute. He was the same for her.

"Emma, I'm sorry."

He could feel her shrug. "We lost. I guess you could say it was inevitable."

"No, I'm sorry for- for all of this. I never wanted this." Paul felt the comfortable fog of the Hive's influence finally begin to lift from his mind. "I never wanted  _ any  _ of this, all I wanted was-"

"I know, Paul. Me, too."

\--

Four months ago Paul had shut the door of a vacant Clivesdale hospital room behind him so he and Emma could be alone. He hadn't gone near her until she allowed him to, even then just sitting on the edge of the bed beside her with two feet of space between them. She'd sat in silence with her chin on her knees until she couldn't take it anymore.

"How did it happen?"

"The meteor." Paul looked at his hands, the base of the palm of his right scorched blue. Better than before, at least it wasn't torn open and dangling off his wrist anymore. Not that he'd felt it then, anyway. "As soon as I stepped into that theatre it was inside me."

Emma looked down. "Oh god, it's my fault…  _ I _ sent you there, you got infected because of  _ me…" _

"What? Emma, no, no…" Paul set his hand next to hers. "There's nothing at fault, okay? I'm happy this way."

"Don't say that."

"It's true, though! I feel whole and motivated - I've never had a purpose before. It's nice, knowing what I'm supposed to be. Knowing what I want."

He reached towards Emma's face and she scooted further back on the hospital bed to avoid him. He dropped his hand.

"Don't touch me." She said, pulling into herself.

"Okay. I won't." Paul promised. "I just want to share this with you, Emma. I want you to be happy. If you think you'll be happier in Colorado than back home in the Hive with me, I'll get you there. No one will touch you and once you're safe you'll never hear from me again."

Emma didn't seem to know how to feel about that option. She hugged herself like she was cold, rubbing her arms.

"Those things would track you. You're one of them, they'd come after us." She muttered.

"No they wouldn't."

"How do you know?"

"I'd tell them not to. They'll do whatever I say."

Emma raised a skeptical brow. "What, so not only are you one of them, you’re like… their fucking king now? Way to  _ never be in a fucking musical, _ Paul."

"That's not fair, Emma. It wasn't my choice."

"Seems you accepted it pretty damn quick."

"You'd be surprised." Paul looked down. "You reach a point where it's just too tiring. It stops hurting when you give up the fight and you realize… maybe this is right."

"Stop talking like that."

"Emma, you have to understand I'm still here. I'm still Paul and I'm not going to hurt you, I won't even touch you without your permission." She still looked skeptical. Paul sighed. "Like I said, you're free to do whatever you want, but I'm not going to lie and say I don't want  _ you. _ And I really believe joining us is the better option compared to going on all alone."

"You only think that because you're part of it."

"And you only disagree because you're not part of it." Emma frowned and Paul raised a brow. "You're not denying it."

Emma rolled her eyes and scoffed. Paul drifted a little closer to her - she could feel his cool breath on her skin but he still didn't touch her.

_ "Let it spill into the sidewalk, let the rhythm run you wild. Mission living where the lights burn loud, the vision in your head right now." _

"Stop it."

"It's just communication, Emma. It's not like I'm suddenly dying to go see  _ Mamma Mia." _

Emma couldn't help smiling a little in spite of herself at the way he grimaced just saying the title. He smiled back and for a moment it felt like they were back at Beanies.

"You know…" Paul turned his hands palm-down and locked his fingers together. "We could still try being together, like you wanted. And if I'm the king I guess that would make you like… the queen?"

Emma felt a soft blush rise beneath her skin and lifted her hand to cover it.

"Paul,"

"I've seen how you're treated at Beanies, Emma. Imagine every shitty customer you've ever had, or creep who's hit on you doing anything you say. You'd never be disrespected again, they wouldn't be able to help it."

Paul held his hands out questioningly. Bewildered, Emma took them. She couldn't explain why.

"We would be so good together," Paul continued. "We'd run the whole island, you and me. And if Hatchetfield's not enough you could have anything else you want, easy, you'd be  _ so _ powerful."

Emma blinked. "H-how powerful are you?"

Paul's eyes sparkled. "Very."

Emma felt her face grow hotter. She looked away and pulled her hands from Paul's, shaking her head and laughing uneasily.

"Okay, so maybe everything you just said is like, my top non-sexual fantasy - which might say something about me that I don't want to unpack right now - but that doesn't make you sound any less like a fucking supervillain!"

"Is that how you think of me, Emma?"

"It sure is right now."

"Well, if I'm offering your fantasy maybe you don't have much room to talk."

Emma blinked. Emma laughed. Paul laughed. Paul took Emma's hands again, light enough that she could still pull away, but she didn't.

"This is so fucked up!" She shrieked with laughter. "Everything about this is so fucked up and you know what the worst part is? Somehow it's working!  _ Why  _ is this working,  _ why  _ am I still into you?"

Paul hummed. "Maybe you want this as much as I do?"

Emma looked away. Paul brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles softly. She felt her face grow even hotter.

"No matter what you choose," he said, kissing the back of her hand and to her wrist, "I'll always keep you safe. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I'm around."

His voice was so soft. He trailed kisses up her arm and Emma shivered. 

_ "I could be the one in the jet black jacket. Call it what you want, what I want, you have it. You could be the one in the shallow city. Everything we've done, I want you with me." _

"Paul…" Emma tried to keep her clear enjoyment of the affection out of her voice, but she was sure she would melt if he kept doting on her. Her head felt hazy and the question slipped out before she could register it. "Would it be like this all the time?"

"Sure, if that's what you want." When Paul looked up at her his eyes were sparkling with adoration. "If you were my queen I'd want to treat you like one, I'd want to worship you."

"Jesus fuck, Paul." Her voice shuddered. She shook her head, trying to snap out of it. "We barely even know each other."

"I know. But there's never a better time to start, right?"

"Man…"

"I can't explain it, Emma, but I know this feels right. If it's anyone, it's meant to be you."

"This is not the way I expected our relationship to go."

Paul chuckled softly and turned his attention to Emma's other arm.

_ "Let sun never start, let's live in the dark. It's all we ever had, all we've lost." _

Emma scooted a little closer as his kisses reached the sleeve of her blouse. He looked up at her curiously and she tilted her head, baring her neck to him.

"Keep going."

He slid his hand up her arm and slowly fit himself in her neck. His other hand found its place on her hip, and hers in his hair, and somehow, like he'd said, it just felt right. He made his way up across her jawline to her cheek, just in front of her ear, and suddenly stopped. He was barely an inch from her, his bright, swirling eyes making her heart pound.

_ "Two ghosts on the street, move closer to me. It's all we ever had, all we've lost." _

He wanted her so bad. It was a tender kind of want, Emma could see it in his eyes. Longing. Emma didn't think anyone had ever longed for her. His motivations were tainted, his feelings were amplified, and she knew it. But as long as it was Paul she couldn't deny that she felt the same. She brought a hand to his cheek, the other grabbing his tie, and closed the gap between them. Chastely at first, but when they parted and she saw how Paul's eyes sparkled she promptly yanked him back, kissing him deeper and harder to feel him hum against her.

The hand on Emma's hip brushed down to her thigh like he already knew what she was feeling and carefully adjusted her bad leg for her, relieving the pressure. Paul then found a hold on the small of her back to support her as he pressed closer. As predicted, she was melting in his arms. Her head tipped back and he moved his affections back to her neck, self-control clearly deteriorating from the way he stained her skin blue. As he pressed her down on the mattress she tugged on his hair, nearly forgetting where they were and what was really going on.

_ "Tell me what you want, Emma," _ Paul purred in her ear, though he was sure he already knew.

Emma felt both lost in a haze and clearer than she'd ever been. She sighed as Paul kissed beneath her ear. It slipped out before she'd even given it a thought;

"I want you,"

Paul hummed low. "I want you, too."

"Like this," Emma specified in case he didn't get the message. "I want to stay with you, I want to be… with you,"

"You want to be my queen?"

"Yeah, that too."

"Only if you're sure."

"Do it now, Paul."

"Okay, okay, if you insist…"

Emma relaxed beneath him, arching up as he kissed her. His hand came up to her jaw, holding with just enough pressure so her mouth opened slightly without hurting her.

Emma prepared herself.

_ I'm ready for this. I wanted this. _

_ Oh shit, it tastes so fucking weird. _

_ Ugh, it's worse going down. _

_ Well, too late for regret now. _

The first thing she felt was a comfortable warmth, like a welcoming embrace. Then a tingling sensation all through her body as the feeling lifted from her leg. A beat filled her chest, a brand new heartbeat synced with the collective. A soft piano filled her ears as tinkling bells simultaneously filled Paul's. Then he was singing her name and Emma sang his back without even thinking.

When she opened her eyes the world seemed brighter, but all she could focus on was Paul smiling above her, his chin coated in blue shit that somehow didn't look gross at all anymore.

"How-" He started, but before he could get the next word out Emma had grabbed his tie and yanked him back down to her.

The rhythm in their hearts was perfectly synced. Paul's piano formed a beautiful melody with Emma's bells, the harmony only growing stronger the longer they kissed. It was an extraordinary feeling. A comfortable fog slipped its way into both of their heads, clouding everything in their worlds except for each other.

They snuck out of the Clivesdale hospital like giggly teenagers cutting class and rushed back to Hatchetfield with the others who had crossed the bridge after Paul had spread his influence enough to get it lowered. The Hive was eager to officially meet their new queen - of all the Hives across the galaxy, none had ever had more than one ruler. Standing above the blue-eyed crowd, hand-in-hand with Paul, Emma felt respected. For the first time in her life, she felt worth something. Paul sensed how new the feeling was to her and squeezed her hand.

"You're worth everything."

The fog in her head grew thicker.

It grew thicker and hazier the more content they became, clouding their minds in bliss until their first "I love you's", upon which they both promptly lost all remaining resistance and succumbed completely to the Hive's influence.

_ "I'll give you stars and the moon and this soul to guide you, and the promise I'll never go." _ Paul sang. _ "I'll give you hope to bring out all the life inside you, and the strength that'll help you grow. I'll give you truth and a future that's twenty times better than anyone else could have earned." _

Emma smiled and reached up to touch his face, knowing they were on the same page.  _ "I'd rather have the world." _

\--

Now Emma's nonchalance had returned, though the warmth of her fading presence still filled Paul's heart.

"It's never gonna feel like that again, is it?" She asked.

"I doubt it." Paul admitted.

"Doesn't matter. Whatever happens, I still… just… come find me when this is over. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay."

And with that, Emma was gone.

\--

Paul's head lolled sideways on his pillow, bile and blood pouring from his open mouth. His body was still, but only for a moment. Fortunately, fainting from a volume shock doesn't last too long. Kirk woke up right as Paul went into a seizure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I set up certain things in this story entirely so I could write a short Paul and Hannah interaction? Maybe so!  
> And is the flashback just an improved rewrite of the first TGWDLM fic I ever wrote? Perhaps!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	8. Life Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hatchetfield is cured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the happiest I'll ever be with this chapter, I've rewritten it too many times and it needs to be done lmao

About a month and half later, life was… continuing.

Whenever Paul woke in the morning he felt like he'd slept too much. He sat a few extra minutes in bed, eyes on his trash can, in case he had to puke. He'd been dealing with a weak stomach lately. Fortunately, this fine overcast early spring morning, he didn't feel sick. Though as he went about the rest of his morning routine, he quickly realized his back wasn't going to be all that friendly today. His legs moved stiff and sore. So after putting on his shoulder brace and getting dressed for work, he retrieved his wheelchair from his room and plunked himself down. Doctor's orders.

He messed with the collar of his new light grey blazer in front of the mirror. He didn't like the way it lay. He'd bought a few new blazers and matching pairs of pants, although his old suit was his favorite, because looking at himself in it still made him feel sick. It was just so easy to flash back to the blue. For years the only thing that suit had said about Paul was  _ Paul.  _ Normal, unthreatening office worker. Now when he wore it he could almost feel bones cracking under his feet.

So, new suits.

Picking up his briefcase and laying it on his lap, Paul headed outside. Saying Hatchetfield was a different place was somehow overkill and underkill simultaneously. On the surface little had changed - to the point that once the lockdown was lifted, anyone visiting from Clivesdale would likely see no difference. But someone like Paul, who knew Hatchetfield and its routines inside and out, could definitely sense the change in the climate.

The step on the street was uniform and consistent, in a way that couldn't possibly be voluntary. Strangers were a little friendlier. There was an unspoken understanding about what they'd all been through, that everyone knew a little more about each other than they should. It was quiet, but it was unifying. In some fucked up way, the apotheosis actually had brought the town a little closer together.

It put Paul on edge sometimes. Too many people knew him now, too many people who were familiar in a way he was too foggy to place. The only person he knew like he felt he should was Emma, but for the time being he elected not to think about her. He felt both on the outside and in the center of the crowd. He kept his head down as he wheeled along the street.

"Excuse me, do you have a moment to talk about saving the planet?"

Paul looked up and locked eyes with the Greenpeace Girl.

"Oh, hi, Paul."

Oh, he did not like that she knew his name, especially when he didn't know hers. He did, at one point, he thought it started with a D. He knew she was a gardener, and that she had a girlfriend she wanted to propose to, but he didn't know her fucking name.

Paul cleared his throat. "You're still doing the Greenpeace thing?"

She shrugged, hugging her clipboard. "Why not keep working towards a better world?"

"Can't fault you for that." Paul nodded.

"Yeah. Well, you're headed to work, I won't hold you up. I know your deal."

"Okay. Um, have a good day."

"You too."

Paul continued on his way. A few feet down the sidewalk he passed the same homeless man from before, sitting on the curb.

"Hey man, spare change for the homeless?"

"Uh, mhm," Paul dug into his pocket and pulled out a $20. He regarded it pensively before handing it over.

"Oh, shit! God bless you, man!"

"...Sure."

Paul wasn't really sure he believed in God anymore. If he did, he was sure he'd never been blessed. He rolled down the block a little faster, feeling the Greenpeace Girl's eyes on him. If only everyone would go back to paying him no mind.

He stopped at the front steps outside the CCRP building - still no wheelchair ramp. He'd talked to Mr. Davidson multiple times since coming home about getting one installed. He rolled his eyes and stood up - at least he wasn't  _ bound. _ He carried the chair inside and sat back down to head to the elevator.

At least Paul didn't mind the eyes so much when they belonged to his coworkers. They felt less invasive when he knew them at least a little, and in the case of CCRP they were mostly just getting used to seeing the chair sometimes.

_ Mostly. _

Paul headed for the break room, in the mood for his staple.

"Morning, your majesty." Ted said, glancing down from where he rummaged in the freezer.

"Still just as funny as the first fifteen times, Ted."

Paul reached for the cabinet door and Ted got it for him, passing him the white mug with the chip in the rim that he always used. Ted never used to care which mug belonged to whom.

"I will never let that go, you better know that." Ted said. "My speech at your funeral's gonna consist of nothing but making fun of whatever the fuck that was."

"Assuming you outlive me," Paul scoffed, "and that you'd even be allowed to give a speech if you do."

"Spite speech."

"Ah."

"You're never living it down, I'll tell you that much."

"Not like I would either way."

Paul set his mug between his legs - if only the chair's cup holder were a little wider - and wheeled back out of the break room to his desk. Ted frowned. He watched him go.

\--

"Matthews, you have a visitor."

Colonel Schaeffer leaned up against the open doorframe of Paul's room. He looked up, puzzled. Most everyone who cared about him was back in Hatchetfield - discounting Emma, and he wasn't allowed to see her. His parents had no idea what had been going on, they hadn't lived in Hatchetfield in years, they didn't even know he was in the hospital. General McNamara didn't request permission to visit, he just dropped in.

Paul had no clue who was going to walk through the door, and somehow the answer was worse than he could have imagined.

"Look at you, Mister King of the Hive himself." Sergeant Aubrey Faren limped into the room with a cast around her arm. She gestured to the sling around Paul's. "We match."

Paul's stomach churned. He almost went for the trash can. Faren was scarred and bruised and her tired smile was broken by a split lip. She wasn't familiar in appearance, but something in Paul told him this woman had it out for him. And at one point, he'd had it out for her.

He knew her scream. 

She wasn't quite as fazed, though, making her way to sit in Paul's bedside chair.

"I know you're not speaking, that's fine. Just thought I'd drop by before I head off on leave. I wanted to meet you now that you're  _ you _ again. You put this unit through a lot."

Paul looked down at his bandaged hands folded in his lap. He ran his thumbs over the gauze. He wasn't very fond of the rough texture, but he'd gotten familiar enough with it to find it slightly comforting. It was a suitable substitute for rubbing his nails, at least - he didn't like the way the hospital's sterile soap made them feel, it was a far too slippery smoothness and it made him uneasy.

"Look at you now, though." Faren continued. "You're not so scary, all tubes and wires and wrapped up like a mummy. It's hard to believe you're even the same person. I'll bet you believe me now, huh? You really were just sick."

Paul nodded. He kept his gaze turned down but he could see Faren peripherally. She studied him intently. Curiously.

"It's funny... I'm still kind of afraid of you." She mused. Paul looked up. "Not that I think you'll hurt me again, not really. But I don't think that impulse will go away. And it's not just me, either. Welcome to scars forever, Paul, you're never living this down."

Paul's teeth sunk into his lip, peeling off a bit of skin. He knew that already. He'd felt it from the moment he woke up. For the rest of his life, he would remain chained to what he'd only just been freed from. All of Hatchetfield would, but as he would later learn not all of Hatchetfield had been as dependent as him. He'd nearly died without it. For fuck's sake, his scars were tinted purple.

The king of the Hive would never leave his blood.

"But hey, scars just mean you're still alive, right? That's something." Faren's leg bounced. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

Paul brought his fist up in an  _ A _ over his chest and moved it in a clockwise rotation. Faren smiled gently, getting the message. He was sorry, too.

\--

He got lost in his work very easily now. It was nice to have that distraction, to just get swept up in numbers for a few hours. It did have its downsides, though, especially when you got used to having the whole town in the back of your head.

"Hey, Paul," Bill clapped his friend on the good shoulder from behind.

"Aah!" Paul winced, the twinge in his bad shoulder proving counterproductive. "Bill, buddy, you can't come up behind me anymore, I can't hear you."

"Sorry, sorry!"

"Hold on, let me turn around." He maneuvered his chair so he could face Bill without having to twist his back. "Okay."

"I was thinking about heading over to Beanie's."

Paul swallowed. His hands curled into loose fists stacked on top of each other. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I've been jonesing for an iced caramel frappe, y'know? Nothing better."

Paul smiled softly, recognizing Bill's angle. "Nothing better." He echoed.

"I know you got your coffee already, but do you wanna tag along? I'd like the company."

Paul let his head tilt with a good natured eyeroll. "Sure."

Bill beamed. They were heading out when Ted popped from the shadows as he so often did.

"You didn't invite me!"

Paul did not tell his body to do this. Paul did not intend for his body to do this. But as if it were a reflex, he stuck up his hand in a middle finger in Ted's direction, offering an extra "Fuck off, Ted."

He promptly returned both hands to his chair and wheeled faster, quietly mortified with himself. Bill didn't say anything, which he was grateful for.

Outside Beanie's, Alice and Deb sat at a table with the older of the Foster sisters, who Paul certainly remembered outside of a vague presence in his head. As he and Bill neared he saw Alice spot them and quickly swat smokes out of the other two's hands. He glanced up at Bill, who hadn't noticed, and made eye contact with Alice to motion zipping his lips shut.

"Hi Dad, hi Uncle Paul." Alice waved, nervously cheerful.

Paul waved back.

"Hey Alice, girls." Bill greeted.

Deb gave a wide but awkward smile, very clearly trying to get in Bill's good graces since he had prime custody of her girlfriend now. "Hi, Mr. Neilson."

Lex didn't look up from her phone. "Dudes."

Bill glanced at his watch. "It's almost one, I hope you girls were planning on heading back to school soon."

"Of course, Dad, we're just on lunch hour." Alice nodded.

"Ha, imagine going to school, couldn't be me." Lex scoffed.

"You have work though." Deb pointed out.

"Yeah, and I get money for it. Way better deal. When you're killing yourselves over college essays, I'll be on the road to California."

"Don't get invested in that happening anytime soon, who the hell knows how long we'll be in lockdown here."

Lex groaned, sinking down in her chair. "Ugh, I should've just taken Hannah and bolted when we were in Clivesdale. Lockdown blows."

"How is Hannah?" Paul piped up suddenly, surprising her.

She sat back up and actually looked at him.

"Oh, hey. I thought you fucking died or something."

Paul blinked. "Nope, I'm still here."

"God, dude, my sister will not shut up about you. The coffee chick, too. Keeps talking about celestial soul bonds and constancy and shit, I don't even  _ know  _ where she learns these words." Lex shook her head. "Were you, like, an old teacher or something?"

"No. To be honest, I don't know how she knows me, either."

Lex raised a brow skeptically. "I've got my eye on you, suit guy."

"My name is Paul."

"Whatever."

Lex went back to her phone. Paul looked at Alice, who only shrugged.

"Alright, we should get going." Bill said, pulling the door open and making the bell ding. "Alice, I'll see you at home."

"Bye Dad, bye Paul!"

Bill pushed Paul's chair into the shop. "I don't know how I feel about that Lex."

"Baby steps, Bill. You're just warming up to Deb."

"You're right, you're right."

Zoey was at the counter, rummaging in the register as they approached. "Hi, welcome to Beanie's, how can I-" she looked up and the cheerful customer service smile melted from her face. "Oh shit."

"What-?" Bill tried, but she'd already turned around.

"Hey, your royal bitchiness!" She called into the back.

"Jesus, Zoey, what?" A familiar voice replied. "If any customers hear you talk like that I'm telling Nora, I'm not here for this double stan...dard…"

Time slowed down in every conceivable way as Emma made her way out of the back room on crutches, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders. Paul stopped breathing when they locked eyes for the first time in over a month, and she trailed off hopelessly. He felt guilty, his eyes immediately drawn to the residual limb of what had once been her bad leg, now amputated not too far above the knee. He forced his gaze back to her face. He blinked. She blinked.

"Holy shit."

\--

"Steady, Emma."

"It fucking pinches!"

"It's only temporary, I'll adjust it when you have your actual fitting. Let go of my arms now, hon."

"If I beef it I blame you."

"I'll accept that, just give it a try."

"Okay. Okay."

Regan - Emma's physician and prosthetist, eased Emma's iron grip off her arms. Emma clung to the parallel bars in front of her so tight her scabbed knuckles turned white. Regan circled the bars so she stood at the other end. She coaxed Emma to take a step and, shakily, she did. It took a minute, but she staggered to the other end of the bars.

"Great job, Emma, you're a real powerhouse." Regan praised.

"Yeah, yeah," Emma waved her hand. "Can we get this fucking leg off me?"

Regan helped her to sit. "You like the crutches better?"

"I don't know. The prosthetic's uncomfortable right now."

"We'll see how you feel as the limb heals. You won't be done with me for a while once you're cleared to go home, I'll tell you that."

"Good thing you're not annoying."

Regan smiled. Emma looked away while she removed the prosthetic. Once it was off and stored she looked back. The residual limb was scarred from surgery, still discolored from bruising and blood clots. Allegedly it had looked worse before the surgery, but Emma struggled to imagine how. It had been removed when she was first sedated by the cure, and according to Dr. Kirk she'd thrown quite the tantrum when she woke up. Not that she remembered much of that.

"You up for a few more rounds on the crutches?" Regan asked.

"I'm uh… I'm a little spent, actually. If it's okay I might just go back to my room."

"Sure." Regan helped Emma stand and opened up the door for her. "You've been doing really well, Emma, I'm proud of you."

Emma smiled downwards and sniffed. "Come on, man, you can't say shit like that right now, you'll make me cry."

Regan patted her arm lightly. "Just keep that head up, hon. I'll see you tomorrow."

"...Yeah."

Emma kept her head down as she headed back to her room, feeling the tears prick at her eyes already. God, she'd been crying too much, she couldn't stand it. Things were too quiet, she cried. Things were too loud, she cried. She thought about Paul, she cried. She received basic  _ praise,  _ she cried. Everything was too much, too real. The haze and violence and fake bliss of the Hive almost seemed like something to miss, though she didn't. She  _ didn't. _ It had all been fake, Emma was glad to be herself again. She was.

She discarded her crutches and pulled herself onto her bed, clutching her pillow.

Even that thought made her cry.

\--

Now, having been back home for a few weeks, Emma felt a little better adjusted. She was working her way up to being comfortable with the prosthetic, regular visits with Regan certainly helping. For now the crutches suited her fine. She could do her job still, that was all that really mattered. Her job made money to pay for classes to earn her degree to get her pot farm, and eventually get the hell out of Hatchetfield.

That was what she wanted. That was all she wanted.

She could tell herself that, but a cursory glance at where her leg used to be was proof enough that she wanted something else, too.

She thought about him too much. It hurt, but it was comforting. It was some fucked-up coping mechanism, lying in bed staring at the ceiling and thinking about him. Standing in front of the mirror on her crutches and imagining him behind her, holding her, being her stability. Being her constant.

She hated wanting him. It felt stupid.

To shake him from her thoughts Emma took warm-up laps around her apartment on the crutches. She headed outside and tested out funky maneuvers on the sidewalk. She couldn't drive until she got on that prosthetic, but Emma Perkins didn't give a shit if people stared at her. She was an exhausted one-legged woman who had ruled the whole town for months and people were going to stare. So be it.

"Tom, if you flake on me I swear to  _ fuck-" _ she was saying into her earpiece, making her way to work.

"I'm not gonna flake, Emma, cool it. We'll just be a little late. Tim's in the chess club, did you know that? I didn't know that. I didn't know his school had clubs."

"His school has clubs, and they run until four." Emma confirmed.

There were two things from the Hive that were crystal clear in Emma's memory; Tim's schedule, and everything she knew about Paul. But Tom didn't need to know about Paul.

"Wish I'd known that before we made these dinner plans." Tom grumbled.

"Hey, he's your son, man. If you don't know he's in the chess club that's your fault. It's fine, though, so long as you're at Beanie's by 4:15 to pick me up we won't lose my reservation."

"You sure you couldn't use some kinda VIP hivemind shit to get us special treatment?"

Emma scoffed. "What, like an ex-queen pass? Not how it works anymore, dude. Just don't fuck around and we'll be on time, it's not that hard."

"Alright, alright. 4:15, we'll see you then."

"Later, Tom."

"Bye, Emma."

The shrill beep over the receiver prompted Emma to remove her earpiece as fast as possible.

Tom was… trying now. That was nice. He didn't remember anything at all about the Hive, so he couldn't possibly remember if they had been any closer or not while infected. Emma made the executive decision not to give an answer, since he seemed motivated enough by Tim's desire to keep her in their lives.

The kid loved her. Maybe misguidedly, but Emma couldn't help loving him too. He was so earnest and sweet and he had Jane's eyes. She looked in those eyes, framed by that curly hair, and she wanted to protect him. If he wanted her around too, for whatever reason, then dammit Emma would be around. She  _ liked _ trying again. She liked feeling like it was worth something to put in the effort.

Like maybe if she didn't give up this time, she could have a family again.

\--

If anything could be considered a perk after all this, there was no singing on the job anymore. Even Zoey stopped humming her showtunes. It almost made her bearable to work with. Almost.

"When's Mr. Business coming back? I'm sick of you being sulky." Zoey said during a brief lull, polishing one of the mugs.

"Paul being around would not make me less sulky." Emma said.

"I beg to differ."

"Well, I beg for you to shut up." Emma opened up the espresso machine and peered inside. "You didn't refill this before opening?"

"I was busy."

"Doing what?" Zoey didn't answer. "Jesus, it's barely one and we're out of espresso. Great. I'll go see if I can find some in the back."

"Holler if you need help."

"Yeah, yeah."

Emma grumbled to herself while she rummaged in the back, only to be called back out after hardly three minutes of looking.

"Hey, your royal bitchiness!"

"Jesus, Zoey, what?" Emma huffed and headed back out to the counter. "If any customers hear you talk like that I'm telling Nora, I'm not here for this double stan...dard…"

She froze when she saw him, so much lower than she recalled because he was  _ sitting,  _ in a  _ wheelchair,  _ oh my god they were both fucked up but he was right there in front of her and even just meeting his eyes was too much.

"Holy shit."

His fists were stacked and tapping together. "Okay. Okay, okay."

Emma couldn't help smiling, a sting pricking her eyes. "Okay. Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Okay!"

"If one of you doesn't say something else soon I'm going to scream." Zoey said.

Behind him, Bill edged Paul's chair a little closer to Emma. Paul lifted his hand in a small wave.

"Hi, Emma."

"Hi, Paul."

"I think this is the first time I've ever seen you with your hair down."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It's pretty."

It took exactly five seconds for Emma's laugh to crumble into sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	9. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul and Emma figure out what they are now.

The immediate instinct of everyone at Beanies was to get Emma into Paul's arms as quickly as possible. Zoey guided her forward, steadied off her crutches, and Bill gave Paul a push. 

"N-no," Emma sobbed, wiping her nose.

Paul was shaking his head, hands braced on his wheels to keep his chair still. Their resistance was a surprise to say the least, but they'd been kept apart by force this whole time. Hesitancy was only natural lest the universe spontaneously combust the second their hands touched.

Zoey gave Emma's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's okay, hon."

Emma pulled in a breath, collecting herself. She held it together okay, her watery eyes managing to stay on Paul longer than two seconds. He looked up at her, just as afraid as she was, and his face broke into a shaky smile, complete with a small laugh. Emma crumbled again. This time when Zoey helped her forward she didn't resist. Bill circled the chair and she let him get her off the crutches.

The second she was in Paul's arms again all resistance vanished.

They melted together. Emma's arms wrapped around Paul's middle, her face buried in his shoulder. Her leg hung a little uncomfortably off the side of the chair, but it didn't matter. Paul held her, close and warm and safe. His hands were firm and steady on her back, the thumb of one tracing small circles.

He told her, "I'm right here," in a soft, shaky voice, like he was holding back tears of his own.

Emma found the breath to say "I missed you."

And Paul fell apart, too.

\--

They tried to take it slow, they really did. For three full days they tried, but when you share your mind with someone as deeply and intimately with someone as Paul and Emma did, for as long as they did, it's almost painful to willingly be without them.

The fourth day after their post-Hive reunion had Paul in a seat at Beanies' counter, returned to his comfortable routine of visits on his break. Emma's hand brushed his when she handed him his coffee. It was all he could do not to hold it in his own.

"Dude, are we gonna go or are you two gonna keep eye-fucking?" Ted asked, leaning on his elbows on the counter and giving his chai iced tea a stir.

"Oh, fuck  _ off." _ Emma rolled her eyes. "Why did you invite him?"

"I didn't." Paul shot him a narrow side-eye. "I invited Bill, and Bill was busy."

"Free will, baby, I do whatever I want."

"Well, do you want to go wait outside so you don't have to look at us?"

"Matter of fact, I do. Don't be long or I'll ditch you."

Ted swept the drink carrier into his free arm and headed outside. Emma looked at Paul with a surprised smirk.

"Are you secretly tricky or is Ted just a dumbass?"

Paul shrugged. "Who knows." He brought a hand up to push his hair back. He'd let it grow out a bit, Emma had noticed. "I probably should head out, though."

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you later? Movies tonight?"

"Yep!"

Paul tapped the counter as he stood up straight, discreetly rubbing his shoulder. He wasn't in his wheelchair today, but he never really stopped aching. He turned around to leave, coffee in hand.

"Wait, Paul?"

"Hm?"

He turned back. Emma chewed her lip, more nervous than she usually would be. She reached over the counter and grabbed Paul's tie.

"Kiss me?"

Paul blinked. "Right now?"

"...Yes?"

"Gosh, Emma, I don't know," Paul tapped his fingers on the counter. "After we spent four months puking on each other a kiss might be  _ too  _ intimate."

Emma raised a brow, getting in on the joke. She leaned further on her crutches, tugging Paul a little closer.

"Damn, you're right. How could we possibly move to a goodbye kiss so fast, after all that hot brain sex on the reg?"

"Oh, I hate that you said that just now."

"Am I wrong?"

"Paul shrugged. "I guess not."

"Then come here, dumbass."

Paul let Emma pull him across the counter, bridging the gap in unison. It was a much softer, more tentative kiss than any they'd shared before - it was brand new. Very easily Paul's hands found the right spots, curled in Emma's hair and resting on her shoulder. It was almost too perfect, the way they still fit together so seamlessly. Emma didn't want to pull away. She wanted to hold Paul right where he belonged for hours, but unfortunately regained humanity comes with a need to breathe. Paul's nose flushed purple, a big dorky grin on his face. Emma had stars in her eyes.

"I missed that," She said, smoothing out his light brown blazer.

"Me too," Paul was swaying on his feet a little.

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

Emma pecked his lips again and pushed him away from the counter. His face was still violet the whole way back to CCRP.

Any remaining hint of taking it slow flew out Emma's bedroom window that night.

\--

"Still not used to sleeping again, huh?" Emma mumbled.

Her head lay on Paul's chest, curled up with him in her bed. Both wide awake, though it was well past midnight.

"I'm not great with eating, either. I forget a lot." Paul admitted. He played with Emma's hair absentmindedly, studying the shadows on the ceiling. "We… We used to spend nights up on rooftops, right? Do you remember that?"

"Mhm. Stargazing."

"I think I remember the first time you called me stardust."

Emma laughed softly. "Yeah. We were lying like this, on top of the town hall."

"Clear skies."

"Full moon. You… sang to me. About the stars. How we're made of them, we came from them. The meteor came from them."

Paul cleared his throat.

"I said 'well, duh,'" Emma shifted her head to look up at him. "Because only the stars could have brought me something as incredible as you. You're better than the rest, though - you didn't just come from the stars, you're the stars incarnate. Pure stardust, that's what you are. And I couldn't believe you were mine.  _ My  _ stardust."

Paul's voice was quiet. "It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard."

"And so it shall remain, you're not getting poetry like that from me ever again."

Paul smiled. "I don't think I'd want poetry like that again."

"Fucking good."

Emma tucked her head into the crook of his neck. He kissed the top of her head. They lay quietly in the dark, shadows drifting slowly. Eyes open. Sleep wouldn't come if they tried, it never did. At least Emma could feel at ease, the steady pulse of Paul's heart beneath her palm, his gentle fingers in her hair. Paul could be calmed by her breathing, her familiar pressure and weight in his arms.

Peace was fleeting, but for the moment there were no worries. No outside world or uncomfortable past, only warmth and safety and each other. But a heavy reality still weighed down on both of them, no matter how hard they tried to pretend.

"We did awful things." Emma said, muffled softly in Paul's sleep shirt. He gave a little sound of agreement. "Never thought I'd be able to say I fell for someone so hard I turned evil."

Paul laughed awkwardly, trailing off. There was a crack starting at the corner of the ceiling. He followed it with his eyes. It branched off upwards, in smaller little cracks, difficult to see in the dark.

"How much of it do you think was  _ us?" _ He wondered quietly.

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean we were in there. I remember enough to know that I wasn't out of commission. I was active, I did and felt and thought. How much of what we did was  _ us _ and how much was…  _ it?" _

"...I don't know."

"I want to believe the awful stuff wasn't us. It's hard, though, when the thoughts haven't gone away."

Under the comforter Paul's hand flexed, trying to work out the numb, phantom feeling of blood under his nails. Emma brought her own hand away from his chest, suddenly a little too aware of his heartbeat.

"Yeah."

"On the other hand, though… ugh, this is going to sound bad."

Emma looked up at him again. It was too dark to really see each other's faces, but her eyes were soft, he could tell that much.

"Being family was easy." She admitted, levelling the field for him. "We all were, so maybe it doesn't count, but… I liked that. I liked not being on my own for once. It's… I know where you're coming from. I had what I came back for, and it was nice. I… I don't want to think that my family only likes me because of the hivemind shit."

"I'm sure they don't. I don't."

"Well  _ you're _ a dork, so…"

"Hey, rude."

Emma smiled and gave him a tap on the nose. She settled on his chest, folding her arms under her chin.

"I get it, though." Paul continued. "I was so sure of everything. I'd never felt that way before, I'd never  _ been _ confident or-"

He cut himself off. He'd keep that last thought to himself. Not that it made much difference. Emma brought a hand up to his face. She ran her thumb over his cheek softly.

"I just keep wondering if  _ any  _ of that came from me." He said.

"I'm sure it's still in there somewhere. The Hive had to want you for some reason, right?" Emma said. Paul made an unsure noise. "Hey, even if it's not, you don't have to be anything more than Paul anymore. I like you plenty the way you are."

"Thanks."

"Mhm."

Emma yawned. Her nose scrunched and her brows furrowed. Paul tucked her hair behind her ear fondly and she nestled against his chest again. He felt his heart swell - he'd never seen her yawn before. Something about it was beautiful to him.

"All things considered," he said, through a yawn himself. "I'm glad I get to fall in love with you again."

_ "God,  _ you fucking  _ cornball." _ Emma muttered sleepily, hiding her face in his chest.

Maybe it was too soon to say something like that. She stayed close in his arms, though, and shortly her steady breathing turned to a soft snore. The sound was calming, and it didn't take long at all for Paul to follow her into sleep.

\--

Weeks passed. Life continued continuing.

Enrollment for summer classes at Hatchetfield Community College opened. Emma sat in front of the registration web page for a half hour, her mouse hovering over Henry Hidgens' lab course. In the end, she settled for a different professor.

"You don't need to feel guilty." Paul told her. "I wouldn't want to go back to his class, either."

He ran his thumb over the edge of one of the cardboard boxes stacked in his lap. Emma was pushing his chair along the street downtown. One hand hung down over his shoulder for him to hold. She carried her blue backpack.

"I'm just not ready yet." She said. "I can't hold it against him when I'm no better, I just need more time."

"I know."

"You'll come with me when I talk to him?"

"Promise."

She kissed the top of his head. "Thanks."

Paul squeezed her hand.

She'd gotten comfortable on her new leg, a strong, sleek, silver prosthetic of quality she was sure she wouldn't have gotten from anywhere but PEIP. The process of breaking it in was slow going, the joint movement was still a bit stiff. When she needed she could rely on Paul to steady her, either by walking his chair or holding onto him.

They held each other constantly. Hands, arms, shoulders. Frequent hugs. Constant, quiet affections. The sight of Emma in Paul's lap, sharing his wheelchair very quickly became a common one. It was familiarity they provided each other. Keeping close felt right, it felt better than staying apart. They'd very quickly realized they could only truly heal together, and they'd leaned into it full force. It was a comfort they both needed more than they cared about public image, but to say Paul and Emma were clingy, while accurate, wasn't really a new observation for Hatchetfield at this point. Everyone knew. In a way, seeing them together again was better for everyone.

It was still weird being waved at by people they didn't know, though.

"Lovebirds!"

And approached.

"Oh! Hi!" Paul waved as the familiar young girl in braids and overalls bounded up to them.

"Banana Split, I fuckin' swear-"

This time instead of her sister, she was accompanied by a tall teenage boy in a leather jacket. He grabbed her hand. "You can say hi and then we're going to meet your sister."

Hannah studied Paul and Emma up and down with satisfaction. "Good couple."

"...Thank you?" Emma looked at Paul, puzzled.

"She knows what she's talking about." Paul said. He wasn't sure  _ how, _ but he could tell.

Hannah placed her hand on his knee for just a second. Her stormy grey gaze bore into him. Somehow, though eye contact had never been his strong suit, he held hers. On some level, he felt he understood her. Clearly she understood him.

"Webby says thank you."

"For what?"

"Being brave."

Paul wasn't sure what to say. Hannah didn't give him much chance either way, moving on to Emma.

"Thank you, too."

"...Sure."

Hannah beckoned for Emma to lean forward. When she did Hannah reached to her ear to whisper. 

"Keep loving. Don't be scared."

"...Okay."

"And the knee joint needs to be loosened." She leaned away, pointing to Emma's prosthetic.

"Okay."

Hannah returned to Ethan's side. He regarded the couple with a small wave before following her past them. Emma leaned down over the back of Paul's chair.

"So that was weirder than randos on the street just knowing our names, right?"

"That girl was in quarantine when we were. I'm pretty sure she saved my life."

"Huh. Guess I should've thanked her, too."

She nosed Paul's cheek. He turned to her and pecked her lips. His smile was sweet, Emma wound her arms around his neck and kissed him longer. The longer they held together she felt the giggle building in Paul's throat. She rested her forehead against his. His cheeks were violet.

"You're cute."

"Is that why you're glad I'm still around?"

"It's one reason."

"What are the others?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would."

Emma laughed. She stood back up and made to keep moving when she realized where they'd stopped.

"Oh damn."

Paul looked up, straight into the splintered, ashen wreckage of the old Starlight Theatre. His stomach dropped. Emma watched the color drain from his face, his fingers tapping rapidly against the cardboard.

"Okay, let's go," she began.

"No, let's…" Paul took a deep breath. "We can look for a minute."

"Paul, are you sure?"

"Yeah."

The building was still circled in police tape, like it had been since the town was placed in rehabilitative quarantine. It wasn't in quite the state it had once been - all hazards cleaned out, residual infectious substances removed - now it was more of a preserved ruin. No one had bothered to rebuild or pay it much mind in the time of the apotheosis. Perhaps if the meteor had remained, it would have been a more important landmark, but it hadn't. All that remained of it had lived inside Paul. 

Emma laid her hand on his good shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze.

"You think they'll tear it down?"

"Probably not, it's a part of the town's history. Even more so now."

"It's fucking condemned, though, they're not even going to level it and put like, a commemorative statue there or something?"

"A statue?" Paul laughed. "Of what, the meteor?"

Emma made a little shrugging sound, leaning down over Paul's chair with her arms around his shoulders. He tilted his cheek towards her and she nuzzled him with her own.

"Maybe? Or maybe of something else, I don't know."

"If you're thinking about a statue of  _ us _ in the middle of downtown-"

"I'm not!"

"Good, because I do  _ not  _ want to think about those implications."

"It's fucking weird, though, right? Keeping the ruins? The meteor's been gone since… you know, and all the spores died. It's safe to clear out the space, get some new real estate."

"What would you put there?"

"You ask me like I've thought about it, man, I don't  _ know. _ It just bugs me, I guess. Doesn't it bug you?"

"A little." Paul shrugged. "But it's not my town anymore. If the council wants to make the ruins a historical site that's their business."

"Not much of a historical site if everything made public is a lie."

They stayed on the sidewalk in silence for another minute or two, studying the broken remains of the theatre. The impact hole in the roof was splintered and jagged. At the right angle you could see inside, where seats hung busted, ripped curtains had fallen and the crater in the stage remained untouched. Those with especially keen eyes might even spot the outline of a man on one of the back walls, cleared from a spray of ash from a detonation and tinted with blue. Like an abstract piece of art.

Paul swallowed thickly, breathing in through his nose to keep his stomach from churning.

"Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd like to leave now."

"Okay."

The rest of their walk was quiet, all the way down Paul's block and to his house.

"Thanks for being my dolley," Emma said, taking the boxes while Paul searched for his keys.

"Sure. That's the last of it, right?"

"Yep, everything I didn't sell."

"It's almost official, then! When you walk through that door, you'll be moved in."

"Mhm, from royalty to roommates."

"What a progression."

"Give me the keys."

Paul handed them over. Emma headed up the walkway with him at her heels and unlocked the door. She set her boxes on the coffee table and dropped her backpack on the floor. She placed her hands on her hips and breathed in the quiet, comfortably dull atmosphere of Paul's house. She sighed.

"I don't feel any different."

"Should you?" Paul asked, pulling the door shut.

"No clue."

"Maybe you will later." Paul rolled his way to the dining room table and started clearing off stray work papers. "Bill and Alice are coming over for dinner tonight, I'm gonna get prep started."

"Ooh, straight into domesticity, huh?"

"Yep. John wants to meet up later this week, too, we were thinking coffee?"

"Aww, the General misses us."

"Well, he  _ says _ I owe him a coffee date, but yeah. He definitely misses us."

Emma laughed. She gave the room around her a cursory sweep, though she'd grown fairly familiar with it already. Paul wasn't one for home decor, most every splash of color in the house came from her things she'd already set up. There wasn't much, a few art pieces and keepsakes from Guatemala, a craft or two that Tim had given her, an old childhood photo of her and Jane. Aside from that and the few family photos Paul had, the house was pretty bare. She liked it that way.

"Okay, I guess I'll get the rest of my stuff unpacked." She said.

"Sounds good. I'm right in the kitchen if you need anything."

As Paul spoke he started towards his destination. Something about the moment just hit Emma, right there. Something that felt good, in a clear way. No haze this time, no fog. This was a feeling bathed in sunlight, visible straight through a crystal clear looking glass.

_ Keep loving. Don't be scared. _

"Hey, Paul?"

"Yeah?" He turned back around to face her.

Emma Perkins, standing in his - their - living room. Hair down, windswept. Cutoff shorts boldly displaying her titanium limb, no sleeves or concealer to hide her scars. In this moment, she was clarity in every sense of the word.

"Love you."

Paul blinked. He smiled, a gentle, quiet kind of smile, somehow completely different yet identical to the way he used to smile at her. There was no shine in his shadowy eyes, but the softness remained. The admiration he held for her, not remotely diminished by lack of glow.

"Love you, too, Em."

The warmth was everywhere. It hung in the air until Paul disappeared into the kitchen, the moment over, but Emma still felt it in her bones. Paul did, too.

Whatever they were now, ex alien royalty, trauma victims, redeemed villains, regular damn people, or all of the above, they were  _ real.  _ Everything around them, the people, their thoughts, their feelings. It was all  _ real. _

No otherworldly power could possibly beat that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's followed this story! Your comments and kudos mean the world to me, they kept me motivated every point I felt stuck. I've had a lot of fun with this and I hope you've enjoyed it too!  
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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